Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

A Very Merry Christmas

Deserts were cold at night no matter the time of year it was, but the decorations spread around the base revealed the occasion. Decorations that had been allowed by a bewildered but amused Starscream, who liked to learn about new Earth culture stuff, and a few enchanted Decepticons. Bombshell being chief among them, who claimed it would be good for them all, especially when Archeville quietly revealed that this type of Christmas celebration had been forbidden for years by the government.

No wonder Sephie had been ecstatic they'd agreed and even the boys had been pulled into the excitement.

Cliffjumper stood leaning against the door frame just outside of it, making sure he wasn't in the way for the door to remain closed. Just so there'd be nothing to track them by even if Starscream had assured him that leaving the door open for a breem or so wouldn't matter. At least that way the silver garland wrapped with pine and mistletoe leaves would be invisible. He wasn't sure what it was, but it all made him...

"There you are. Didn't take you for a stargazer, CJ," Sideswipe said as the door slid apart and warm light spilled out of the doorway, Cliffjmper swearing and flailing as his support disappeared, but straightened himself without falling over.

"Hey, Sideswipe. Not really, no." Cliffjumper shrugged and turned away from the former Seeker, optics sliding away from the badly-healed slash that went through Sideswipe's Autobrand, light playing along the sharp angles of it and disappearing in the narrow ends. Sideswipe settled himself against the other end of the doorway, arms folded over his chestplates and seemingly disinclined to move so the doors could sweep closed again.

"So, what's the oddest part?"

Shifting in place, Cliffjumper cast Sideswipe a grumpy stare, but since he was looking out over the vista offered by the nighttime desert himself, he "missed" the glare and Cliffjumper huffed, digging the tip of a bumper into the ground.

"What, that this is yet another year stuck on Earth, or this makes it slightly over a year I've been in another reality, even less one where everything's slaggin' upside down?" asked Cliffjumper, angling his helm to search out some of the familiar constellations on the sky. It was a rethorical question even if Sideswipe perfunctorily nodded, red optics lambent in the half-gloom of the star-lit dark outside in front of them and the lit inside behind them. "Latter, definitely. Really didn't think I'd be here this long, even if it was pretty slaggin' clear we'd be on Earth for at least a year after we took off 'cause of the Plait Nebula... and now, well... It all hinges on us gettin' the stellar spanner to work, otherwise we might be stuck here for even longer, nebula or no. Again for me. Already spent 'round ten years on this mudball. I just..." Scowling, Cliffjumper shook his helm and jerkily crossed his arms.

He was thinking too slagging much about this.

Sideswipe nodded and pushed away from the door frame.

"Hey, I might not get all of it, but sometimes I catch myself being amazed over how long I've been with the Decepticons... Not something I thought I'd ever do, you know?" Shaking his helm, Sideswipe reached out and squeezed Cliffjumper's shoulder. "But this isn't the strangest thing that's ever happened, being stuck for longer than you thought you'd be in a strange place, right? Talking of being stuck, however. Sephie told me to go find you and drag your sorry aft inside. Apparently there's going to be presents?" Sideswipe looked vaguely baffled by that. Not that there wasn't a celebration or two where gifting each other presents was a thing in cybertronian culture, in Cliffjumper's reality and in this one, but that hardly happened among the Autobots nowadays...

"Yeah, I know. Suppose it's time to go then, before she sends Ravage out here..." Cliffjumper grimaced but felt a smile tug on his lips and pushed away from the door as well. But stopped when he couldn't go further due to Sideswipe's right hand still on his shoulder. "... Sideswipe..." Optics narrowing at the smirk hovering about Sideswipe's lips, Cliffjumper glanced upwards again and swore softly.

"Don't you fraggin' dare---"

"What, you mind that much, CJ?" Sideswipe's optics widened in bright inquiry, and Cliffjumper squirmed, scowled and looked away.

"That ain't the thrice-slagged point, frag it all!" snapped Cliffjumper but didn't move when Sideswipe's other hand briefly came to rest on his other shoulder, swallowing the joint as well as the red piece of metal that protected part of the shoulder. Then Sideswipe leaned down and his left hand migrated from shoulder to resting against the side of Cliffjumper's helm, thumb underneath his chin and tipping it up with a strength that had Cliffjumper dig his fingers into Sideswipe's right elbow joint as he couldn't quite keep his helm tilted down with that force on it.

"The slag do you get off, ya glitch---" the muttering was cut off when their lips met, friction chasing up blue sparks of static electricity that stung against their tongues, and then Sideswipe backed off, bumped the front of their helms together, and straightened.

"Let's go see what presents Sephie's getting us, then." With a grin, Sideswipe preceded Cliffjumper inside, the minibot casting a glare up to the clump of mistletoe hanging from the center of the metallic garland wrapped with pine and mistletoe both.

Slagging decorations.

***
So This is Christmas... And What Have You Done?

They'd been portal-hopping for nearly a breem, and Thundercracker had not a slagging clue why. Skywarp just kept pushing him through portal after portal, which, he noticed, were all opened at the exact distance where Skywarp's accuracy would be stretched to its limit, but still leave him where he wanted to go. Skywarp usually either took shorter jumps, bouncing around in purple flickers and chased by the humming sound of time-space torn apart or longer than absolutely safe when he was impatient - and alone. Now, however, the portals he used when warping more than himself around seemed to be designed for maximum efficiency, and Thundercracker wasn't even sure why. When they emerged again, not even a complete spark-circuit after he had been pushed through the latest one, they were hovering in the air above a still and frozen watery wasteland. Giant blocks of ice dotted the surroundings, and further away they rose up to form the solid surface of a glacier.

The Arctic? Or Antarctica? Thundercracker wasn't sure, and for sure couldn't tell, though it was probably the Arctic, given that it was dark here and it hadn't been during the first several dozens of portals, and they were closer to the Arctic than Antarctica from their base as well.

"... Skywarp, what're we doing here?" Turning around to face his fellow Seeker, Thundercracker folded his arms over his cockpit, frowning.

"Oh, c'mon. Can't we just go for a flight without you gettin' suspicious?" Skywarp's distinct and curious meld of exact diction and sloppier slang was more soothing than Thundercracker would admit to. "No one's shooting at you, things're perfectly slaggin' quiet and simple. What more could you want?" Skywarp huffed, imitating Thundercracker's crossed arms far more jerkily, and Thundercracker could only stare for a moment. Then his processor caught up with him, and even if this was Skywarp, he felt his energon grow cold in his tank. Even if this was Skywarp, Skywarp could be pressured into following orders and reveal things easily if the right (or wrong) people had the faintest inclination that something was wrong. Even if they were too few for Megatron to kill him for something as nebulous as non-solid doubts.

"... Skywarp, why would I want any of that? I'm not---"

"Ah!" Immediately, Skywarp's folded arms were broken up for an aggressively thrust out finger, and Thundercracker scowled as he focused on the finger nearly touching his nasal ridge. "Shhhh. No one's here but you an' me, so shut it with your stupid pretensions, TC. Just relax for once, okay? We've been on this stupid planet for thirteen fraggin' years already, treading water," snapped Skywarp, glancing down at the water beneath them in a gesture as natural as the human phrase ought not be. A human would've been rolling their eyes to the heavens, but why would a cybertronian do that when Primus and the Well was found down? Supposedly, anyway, at least for the former, even if neither of those things could be found on Earth.

Thundercracker opened his mouth again, but his vocaliser was clicking empty white noise and he wasn't even sure what he was going to say, and Skywarp had started talking again anyway.

"So, y'know. Relax your wings before you twist the cables through with tension an' your joints cramp up, or whatever. Soundwave ain't gonna reach this far, and I'm not gonna tell."

To be honest, Thundercracker was utterly flabbergasted. It was so very easy to forget that while Skywarp wasn't the smartest mech out there, he was quite often uncomfortably perceptive when it came to people. To people, how they acted, and what they didn't want to admit or see. Or wanted others not to see. Like doubts. What finally came out was a deep, rich chuckle as Thundercracker slowly shook his helm.

"So you're giving me a Christmas present. Why are we paying attention to that?"

Skywarp scowled, looking faintly... guilty. He didn't care about the flesh bags, or their stupid traditions, but an Earth year wasn't the same as a year on Cybertron, and it was slagging hard to keep track of and use cybertronian timekeeping for the proper time to "give" something like that. Skywarp's reply, if he'd even thought one up, was interrupted by a deep, mournful echo. It was followed by another melodic cry, and both cybertronians turned their gaze down towards the water to watch a pod of whales break the surface.

Shaking his helm, Thundercracker reached out and didn't even have to look to close his hand about an arm and jerk Skywarp closer as the song echoed about them, a haunting melody that sounded like some of the deeply vibrating tones that once could have been heard in the sonic canyons.

"I suppose I should thank you."

Skywarp opened his mouth, but Thundercracker pre-empted him and kissed him instead.

***
The Near and the Dear One

Standing at the observation tower on Moon Beta, Jetfire wasn't sure what he was doing here. Well, he knew Starscream had told him to meet him here, in about a breem, but why, exactly, the Seeker hadn't told, merely glared at him and huffed that he better be there. Jetfire suspected the reason they hadn't gone here together was the fact that Jetfire could leave the planet a lot more easily and gracefully than Starscream could, and Starscream... was vain. He'd been irritable for orns after their first research mission a few vorns ago when they'd escaped Cybertron's gravity together. It'd taken Starscream longer and with more effort, and he'd muttered insults for over a breem until he'd fallen silent for the rest of their relatively short trip.

So nowadays, they always left the planet separately, meeting up in the outer atmospheric layers or beyond, above one moon or the other, like today.

Throwing a glance at his internal chronometer in the upper right edge of his HUD, Jetfire noted solstice would be soon. Not that he usually bothered with the celebrations, but given that Starscream had asked him to go wait for him here, now, it seemed... somewhat convenient.

"Oh, good. You are here." Landing on the balcony Jetfire was standing on, Starscream spoke while he transformed, the smirk audible before it was visible. Jetfire just cocked his helm at the smugness Starscream was fairly radiating.

"And why wouldn't I be? Given the day, there's no lectures scheduled, and while I suppose I could have been working on any one of several projects or assignments, you did ask." Had demanded, more like, but Jetfire didn't listen much to the way it'd been phrased so much as what Starscream had been saying. It was a good while ago he'd stopped paying attention to phrasing, unless it seemed integral to what Starscream was saying. His words and tone usually said more than the way it was said.

"Yes, yes, whatever. I'd have dragged you here if you'd forgotten and gotten lost in your nonsense calculations, no one denies me." Starscream gestured sharply, waving a hand at Jetfire before he turned away to face Cybertron where it hung opposite of where they were standing on the moon. Jetfire took a step or two closer to the railing Starscream was standing close to, arms folded over his cockpit and staring narrowly up at the planet. In the thin atmosphere of the moon and the dark of the mostly quiet space-port, Starscream's optics were glowing brightly, the light nearly brittle where it slid over his dark faceplates.

"So what are we doi---"

"Quiet! I know this is a near impossible thing for you Jetfire, but shut up for a moment. And pay attention." Starscream's voice was sharp, angled near-disharmonics scratching audials, but Jetfire just shook his helm and came to a stop slightly behind and to the side of Starscream and looked in the direction the Seeker was glaring in.

Jetfire didn't have to wonder for long what Starscream had had them fly out here for.

"... Oh." Optics widening slightly, the pale blue glow wavering as it strengthened, Jetfire angled his helm for a better look at the reflection of Primus' spark. Or, to be more exact and less literary romantic about it, simple atmospheric reaction with highly charged particles from the sun---

"Jetfire. Stop thinking." Starscream didn't even turn his helm to look at him, but his optics had narrowed fractionally. Jetfire chuckled and slid half a step closer, keeping slightly to the side of Starscream to fit against the side of his back-kibble and wound his arms around Starscream's waist. There was a noise of sputtered, wordless protest as Starscream flailed, and then settled with a huff. Turning his helm to rest it on top of Starscream's, Jetfire carefully kept his expression blank as a creeping blanket of red flared up, growing wider and wider around Cybertron's south pole which, coincidentally, Moon Beta happened to be the closest to at this time. After a few moments, bands of intense blue snaked into appearance above the red, winding over the flickering blanket in an intricate display of light.

Jetfire didn't so much as twitch when a hand briefly brushed on top of his own.

***
I Hope You Have Fun

Cliffjumper always had to be difficult. Less so now than in the beginning, but in the end... Difficult. Difficult like stomping down a corridor with Mirage approaching from the other end and he was obviously simply going to continue past, tucking down his helm slightly right as they passed each other in the doorway---

And then didn't get further as the hum of forcefields flared up.

"Wha--- The slag!" Whirling around, hands tensing into fists, relaxing and tensing again, Cliffjumper scowled and his engine revved as he whirled at Mirage. Raising his hands slowly up in the air, Mirage shook his helm.

"I was going somewhere, as you know, so I wouldn't be interested in trapping us here... But perhaps someone took offence to you attempting to ignore me?" Mirage's optics took on a slightly amber shade, and Cliffjumper snarled, thrusting a finger out at the taller mech.

"Oh, shut it. Half the time you're the guilty one! Just makes it easier, and anyway, it ain't like it's anyone else's business!" The narrow tilt to Cliffjumper's slightly too-bright optics dared Mirage to contradict him, and truly... he couldn't. Because it wasn't anyone else's business, but he'd rather it'd be no one else's business while on Cybertron again. Instead he'd agreed to come back to Earth, and even if they had quite a lot more amenities and resources now thanks to contact with a rebuilt Cybertron, transwarp and living in the newly-built Autobot City... Who had named their new base, anyway? A travesty.

"Perhaps not," Mirage finally said with a dip of his helm, but then angled it upwards again, his optics wandering upwards and pulling Cliffjumper's gaze along with his. "But it seems there's a reason behind this madness." Mirage had quickly looked down again as soon as he was sure Cliffjumper would be looking up to see what they'd been trapped with, and he wasn't disappointed.

"Fraggin'... Sweet Primus, no! Whoever's messin' with the security measures better get rid of these things before I find 'em an' punch their lights out, and pronto!" For emphasis, Cliffjumper kicked the forcefield which just had him swearing and shaking his foot to get rid of the zap he'd got hit with. "Great." The word was followed by a noisy grunt as Cliffjumper thumped back against the door frame and crossed his arms, reluctantly tipping his helm back to glare at the positively giant ball of mistletoe above them. Well, giant if they'd been humans, it was kind of dwarfed by the doorway it was hanging in now.

"One could get the impression you'd prefer not to kiss me, Cliffjumper." Mirage tilted his helm as Cliffjumper's glare transferred to him, and then immediately away, engine revving in staccato.

"I'm not gonna grace that with a reply, you slaggin' idiot. 'Cause you know that ain't the problem here!" Cliffjumper snapped even as he glared death at the forcefield, and Mirage was amused to be able to tell of a 0.5 degree raise in Cliffjumper's core temperature.

"Oh, I know. But given that I'd rather not be stuck in this doorway until you decide to give in--" There was a heavy, angry snort from the red minibot, and Mirage felt a smile curl about his lips. "Or whoever did this gets bored, which I, for one, isn't going to bet on..." Trailing off, Mirage took a swift step forward and leaned down enough to haul Cliffjumper up, pressing him back against the doorframe and only shifting his grip when he had a knee between Cliffjumper's legs.

"Mirage--!" The yell was broken off by Mirage snapping forward and pressing their lips together, Cliffjumper's fists bouncing only slightly too hard off Mirage's shoulders before he dug his fingers in, but whether that was to push Mirage away or pull him closer... The forcefield flared again and disappeared, but Mirage merely hummed and urged Cliffjumper to tilt his helm further with the hand he'd curled around his jaw and side of his helm.

There was mistletoe, and no matter how... public and rather uncouth, why not take advantage of the situation?

***
Another Year Over...

"Omega?" His voice carried oddly in the vast open space, but didn't really echo. The gargantuan Guardian powered up from his low-activity rest and leaned forward, mellow green optics glowing dimly in the faint light of the power-saving mode the ship was in. They'd either need to enter suspended animation soon, or stop to gather more energy for the converters.

"Situation: changed?" Omega Supreme's voice thrummed with quiet readiness, a dispassionate intensity that was nearly a monotone. Despite it having been a while since his voice had dropped to those tones, too long since Omega started talking like that, Jetfire still wasn't used to it. Powering up his thrusters enough to boost himself to land on one of the three huge fingers of Omega's offered hand, Jetfire shook his helm slowly. It was hard to reconcile this... bare-bones of a mech with the vibrant, passionate individual that Omega had been. Nowadays, he seemed closer to his non-sparked brethren, and it was... strange. Uncomfortable, rather.

"Not really. Our energy reserves are low, however." Jetfire paused, looked up into Omega's bared face. At least he still withdrew the mask when talking to him... Omega remained silent, a slight tilt to his helm that warmed more than it perhaps should. A bit of personality among the harsh, simple scaffolds that was the only thing Omega seemed to have left.

The war had changed so many things.

"Solstice was an orn ago, and Moon Guard ought to be passing just now." Jetfire shrugged, uncertain what else to say, and Omega dipped his helm ponderously.

"Passage of time: logged. Action?"

Another year gone, another decivorn passed and they still hadn't managed to fulfil the reason they'd broken up their mission for. He'd learned a lot of various planets, seen several more phenomena in addition to the ones he and Starscream had researched for the Academy, but what they needed was to find the Ark and its crew and thus find Optimus Prime and the Matrix.

"Let's sleep on it," Jetfire said, a brief smile warming his pale faceplates before he lifted off from Omega's finger and steered towards the floor. The shadow that suddenly covered him, hesitated and then withdrew had Jetfire turning around instantly. Omega's hand hovered in the space between them like a protoform caught guilty of gorging on energon. Jetfire changed his course and hovered closer, reaching out to lay his so very much smaller hand on the lowest finger. Another of Omega's fingers closed with infinite and calculated gentleness over his hand, trapping it. Jetfire tightened his grip slightly, pressing down on warm metal.

"Action: suitable. Recharge well, Jetfire."

***
... And a New One Just Begun

It was probably ironic that a large part of humanity were ringing in a new year as the battle ended. The Earth trembled, the moon looked a bit worse for wear but hadn't been pulled much further away from Earth than previously, and what shrapnel that hadn't fallen down on Earth and the Moon was being pulled into the tear in space which the Chaos Bringer was falling into, defeated.

Metal scrap crunched thinly, nearly inaudibly under the feet of the only two mechs currently in the area, though there were inbound transport for both of them. Facing Earth as the pristine sphere of blue and white dominated the view in space, the two mechs stood... too close, really. Three steps apart was really nothing in terms of battle, but it was not far enough away to make it easy to dodge a shot from Megatron's fusion cannon. Luckily, he seemed... disinclined to use it at the moment. Arms folded over his chestplates and staring with a narrow, flat expression at the planet that had featured so prominently in their conflict lately, he looked less ready to head off an attack than Optimus who, while not holding his rifle, stood with his arms loosely at his sides.

"It's not over." A statement as much as a challenge, and Megatron grunted and turned his helm to face the mech he'd once called unworthy of fighting him. That was a long time ago, and a lot had happened since their first battle underneath the surface of Cybertron.

"I think I have an even better idea of that than you do, unless the Matrix has given you information about the other threat we face... Even if that might be less apocalyptic than Unicron was," Megatron said with a sneer and tossed his helm in a nod in the direction where space was still twisting around itself, slowly closing up the tear where Unicron had been forced through, courtsey of Optimus and the Matrix.

"We did have some issues regarding them before Unicron proved to... well, exist. I'm wondering, did Shockwave know what he was doing? Did he intend to wake it?" Optimus barely twitched at the sneer and slid the conversation briefly in on to something he'd wondered since it'd been clear that the omnious feeling that had begun when Shockwave removed the Matrix and put it in his computer had been Unicron awaking... Megatron frowned, and rubbed the lower half of his face.

It was still somewhat curious to see the mech that... animated. He had, of course, never been a forbidding wall impossible to read, but Earth had exacerbate some issues and made them larger than life. The Megatron who'd come back after Shockwave defeated him was... more balanced, somehow.

"I doubt it. Not to say he didn't, given that he was playing around with the prophecy about the sun and its brother, but he seemed more concerned with attempting to make the population into what he wanted it to be, not what it might need to be..." Megatron trailed off, and looked back to Optimus, who cocked his helm, ready for what was coming. "Talking of needing to be, Prime..."

"It's not going to be easy to integrate our forces to stand against the Quintessons." Optimus crossed his arms over his chestplates as Megatron turned to face him. It'd always been curious that Megatron used his title, even when he denigrated it, denied his (supposed) authority and insulted him.

"Don't think I'm going to be satisfied with the changes we're going to have to do to do that either. It's not enough, because you're not going to go far enough." Megatron threw back at him, and it was obvious that even if he hadn't gotten back the memories of what they'd seen when he'd cracked the Matrix's casing, he did, at the least, have a wider focus again. Optimus wasn't sure what had happened, but it could be both good and bad.

"And you're going to want to go too far. But we're going to have to try." Holding his hand out to the mech who would conquer everything in the name of "protection", it still felt ironic they were doing this when the majority of one planet was celebrating not just surviving the absolute apocalypse, but a new year. However long this new beginning lasted, who knew, but maybe the rebuilding on Cybertron wouldn't be torn down. Megatron stared for a moment, and then chuckled. It was a slow, rumbling sound that was let out audibly instead of using radio which they had been speaking through, and even in the near non-existant atmosphere of the Moon, the sound vibrated against Optimus' armour. The noise of their hands being entwined in a handshake seemed far too thin for the rather monumental meaning of the simple action.

"So I should've brought down the Quintessons on our heads, not attacked San Francisco to get you to join me?" The dry, slightly mocking challenge failed to make Optimus bristle, though his grip on Megatron's hand tightened a little more.

"We're leaving Earth alone. But perhaps you should have. Or you could've asked in a far more personal manner." Yanking on the grip that joined them together, Optimus pulled Megatron close enough their chestplates made a faint, tinny clang as they came flush against each other.

"It's not my problem if you failed to see all the nuances to what I was saying in San Francisco, Optimus." Megatron didn't move, and didn't move as Optimus angled himself enough to bring their faceplates closer, and his mask retreated.

"You always had issues with the scope of your displays calling me out, Megatron." Their nasal ridges brushed right as Optimus slowly enunciated Megatron's name out loud, and then the muted roar of Astrotrain and the Orion approaching made the leaders pull apart and turn towards their respective ride back to their bases, leaving Earth glowing over the Moon in the space they were creating between them as they walked towards the landing shuttles.

A new year, a new beginning, both new and old battles approaching.

Chapter Text

There was no way to hide what he was carrying, so Cliffjumper was stuck walking through the corridors of the Ark with the package clutched, at first, in one hand, and then between arm and torso to try and hide it from curious looks. He'd completely forgotten to empty enough of his subspace before he left his quarters so he couldn't put the gold-foil-wrapped package in there.

That meant that he was stuck carrying it.

That wasn't so very embarrassing in itself; what was far more annoying was the looks and the teasing calls throwing out guesses for who it was for.

Blasted idiots.

It took a lot of willpower to not whirl around at each and every cutesy suggestion - plausible or not - and start growling threats into their faceplates. The only reason he didn't was that then they'd all for sure see the tell-tale brightening of his optics.

That stupid blush was the worst thing because it wasn't as if he would consider even a third of the suggestions shouted at his back, but he reacted to them either way.

It was so fragging annoying.

He wasn't even sure why he was doing this. They hadn't talked about exchanging gifts; slag, they were barely into any sort of relationship yet. The idea had, unbidden, first crawled itself out of some badly defragged corner of his processor when he'd spotted Bluestreak give Prowl a gift a week and a half ago, and then it'd popped up again when he and Bumblebee had exchanged gifts a few days ago.

Not that Bee's little pointed question of who else he was going to give something to had helped. At all.

So. Fragging. Dumb.

This whole thing was dumb, even if it was sort of nice, too. Maybe. It was annoying mostly because he was having to go looking for his target to get him his present. Pinging him to ask him to meet was out of the question. There'd then be questions and he didn't intend to answer any because then he'd sputter and stutter and feel even more embarrassed than he already did about the whole thing, so.

Nope, not calling ahead.

The whole gift-giving had began the year after Spike and Sparkplug had their little Christmas celebration in the Ark three years ago - he couldn't remember why Spike had asked if they could come over to the Ark then, but he guessed something must've happened to make them have to cancel with whatever else extended family they did have. Usually Spike and Sparkplug spent the 25th with family, and nowadays the 24th or 26th at the Ark.

Before that happened, they'd not really paid much attention to what was going on around the end of December, but Spike and Sparkplug's celebration had drawn curious onlookers, and then there'd been research... Not that any of the dates or actual celebrations connected much with any of them, except for the general idea of celebrating solstice and the end of the year.

It was something that had been done before the war (and as long as anyone had the energy and time and possibility for it, into it). But Earth time wasn't cybertronian time and it'd be difficult to keep track of the turn of their own holidays to celebrate them properly, here, and the various Earth holidays didn't mean much.

What had sort of developed, however, was a general period of gift-giving that stretched from the middle of December to the end of January - along with decorations. The decorations were very beloved, but who doesn't like lights, coloured and not and glitter and stuff like that? They'd especially taken to the coloured lights, and Cliffjumper was, admittedly, fond of them as well.

Two of his favourite celebrations back home had employed in particular different sorts of coloured lights, and it was funny that something on, from and by Earth could remind him so strongly of home when Earth in general really didn't. It didn't even make him annoyed for once, merely vaguely...

Something. He wasn't sure how to describe it. Spotting the strings of light hung up around doorways or along corridors or basically anywhere they could go in the wider recreaction area felt like it made his spark twist a little, but not in a bad way. Not that it even was possible for it to do that, but that's what it felt like.

Pulling his optics away from the string of lights he had accidentally caught sight of as he walked down the corridor, Cliffjumper frowned and wondered if he'd had to comm. Mirage any way, despite not---

"Hey--- Mirage! Wait up!" Cliffjumper's first call was nearly lost in its surprise as he almost missed the white and blue mech cross the intersection of corridors further down from where he was, but his second attempt to call Mirage's attention was all the more loud - and ringing – compared to the first.

The shadow cast by Mirage from the lights in the ceiling froze just as he'd passed around a corner, the wheels on the wheelmount attached to his back the only thing visible before Mirage completely disappeared - and then came back around into the intersection just as Cliffjumper reached it as well, sliding to a stop.

"... Yes?"

Cliffjumper definitely caught that flicker of golden optics down to the wrapped package he only belatedly remembered to tuck behind him as well as he could, so why Mirage had to pretend he didn't have a clue what Cliffjumper wanted, he wasn't sure. Sure, he'd wanted to surprise him, but being called out on it would've been so much easier.

Particularly when those optics were darkening into warmly amused amber even as Mirage managed very well to keep his expression merely politely interested, helm tilted just so and why did he even care about the stuck-up slagger? Mirage probably wouldn't even like what he'd gotten him...

"I... uh," Cliffjumper shifted on his feet, tightening the grip he had on the present and all too aware of its weight. It shouldn't be so slagging hard to get this out, but it was because like frag did he want Mirage to do that little frown and twist of his mouth that could just as well be the epitome of 'turning your nose up' at something like the humans said. Not that Mirage would probably mean it - he wasn't unkind, but slagging pit, Cliffjumper could always see every little moment where Mirage's different expectations from his (former) status coloured his first impression of something.

Even if the noble genuinely liked whatever it was after taking a second look, or whatever. He just didn't feel like being embarrassed (more than he already was) and like it wasn't good enough. Not that he'd been able to get what he actually might want to get for Mirage, but hey, that's what happened when you were stuck on an alien planet.

... And when your own planet had been and was still caught in a civil war that had lasted a few million years. It'd make things hard to get either way.

"I was just gonna---" with a scowl and a little engine rev, Cliffjumper straightened and was just about to simply shove the stupid thing at Mirage and leave when Mirage, after glancing down at him, glanced up again and then held a hand up.

"Hold that thought, Cliffjumper."

"Wha--at? Mirage!" Frustration turned to confusion and then incredulity when Mirage knelt down, slipped his arms around him and his hands underneath his aft and lifted.

The flailing hand he almost used to punch Mirage with turned to clutch at an arm instead as Mirage didn't just stop at unbalancing him, but continued upwards instead. He took Cliffjumper with him as he stood up, optics nearly glittering as he smiled, though whether that was from the blinking Christmas lights or the optics' own glow, Cliffjumper wasn't sure.

"What the frag, Mirage? Why're ya doin' this here?"

Couldn't this have waited? Couldn't this have been done in either of their quarters or something? Cliffjumper growled, thoroughly frustrated and even more thrown off now than he'd been before he'd spotted Mirage.

"Look up," Mirage said, tilting his helm and smile wide enough he was nearly grinning by now, "and I believe a bit of a public display is pretty much necessary for this." Not that Mirage had any issues with public displays of affection (though he could be weirdly particular about it) or even outright exhibitionism - it was more Cliffjumper that felt flustered about that.

Grumbling and ready to argue, Cliffjumper didn't look up until Mirage demonstratively met his optics and then looked away, even as his grip where he held the mini up tightened a bit.

Huffing, Cliffjumper finally looked up, but given everything he was pretty sure he knew what he'd find... Didn't stop him from blushing briefly, optics brightening and field twitching, which just made him frown right after. Mirage's chuckle just deepened it.

"And you just had to lift me up 'cause of a slaggin' mistletoe?" Cliffjumper said, optics narrowing as he looked back at Mirage, because the glitch was perfectly capable of - and had, more than once - kneeling down to kiss him. Mirage shifted his grip a little and then squeezed, fingers sliding over and between metal, and Cliffjumper barely held in a squeak, hard-pressed to get his scowl back.

"Mirage!" hissing, he tightened his grip on the package and tightened his grip on Mirage's arm with his other hand, and despite the fact that the blasted mech had just groped him, he didn't kick the glitch and instead leaned in and up, Mirage's lips brushing against his chin guard. It didn't make him shiver. Nope, not at all.

"There's no chair here and I've just come back from patrol, Cliffjumper. My joints have had enough enough a workout today, thank you."

"Well, if ya weren't so fraggin'---"

"Hush, you." Mirage interrupted him and didn't let Cliffjumper finish the not-at-all unusual condemnation that would end with 'delicately built', instead kissing the grumbling minibot underneath the mistletoe that hung from the christmas lights that had been strung across the intersection.

And he wouldn't let his little annoyance of a mini forget to give him that present, either. Until then, however... Mirage smiled and tilted his helm slightly, only missing not having both hands free because he couldn't press Cliffjumper into the kiss - but Cliffjumper nipped his lower lip and pushed in himself, opening up to let the static charge snap against their tongues.

How fitting Cliffjumper had run into him right where there were mistletoe.