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Stars shone brightly in the night sky. They steadily twinkled to a silent beat, as if they had sparks of their own. The sun had dipped below the horizon many hours ago, swallowed by the true darkness of space. Moonlight filtered through the leaves of trees that stood tall above Starscream, and the sight made his optics glint with something unreadable. Crickets chirped in the distance, interrupted every so often by an owl hooting.
The noise filtered pleasantly through his audials. He rested calmly on a bench beneath a tree, with his legs swinging in the air. Most of the benches were high off of the ground because they were built for bigger models, not the sleek, and therefore little, models of seekers. It was a fact of the world that was both mildly annoying and something that Starscream had grown used to over time. That didn’t change the fact that seekers were simply better in every way possible.
Built for speed and agility, everything about them was graceful and smooth. Starscream’s wings fluttered as he preened like one of the many cyberbirds that scattered his campus grounds. He was known for his pride, after all. It was one of the many things that got him in trouble in his youth; teachers and students alike scuffled with him often for what he would insist was a significant transgression against him.
His caretakers often wondered how he’d even made it to college, which was part of the reason that he no longer called home even when he wanted to. He was a free spirit, soaring through the air like a shooting star. Never again would he be held back.
.. Even by the terrible, miserable excuse of homework that his professor had assigned him specifically to do. Nobody else. It made his wings twitch and his fingers curl into fists at the mere thought. He didn’t want to do it in the first place, but his professor insisted that he was doing Starscream a service by ’saving his grade’. His grade was fine. It was his reputation that was at risk.
Of course he had to get the professor most notorious for being a hero; kind, forgiving, and patient, there was nothing that anybody could do to get under his skin outside of blatantly assaulting him. Something that, under multiple occasions, Starscream had genuinely considered doing. Those who pretended to be noble and heroic got beneath his skin like nobody else managed to do. Thus, he was out in the middle of the night, breaking curfew so that he could feel the warm breeze brushing against his wings.
The crackle of a leaf had Starscream leaping off of the bench and spinning around in one fluid movement. His wings tightened and raised, pinned into a defensive posture along his spine. Across from him, along the gravel path and completely oblivious to his presence, stood a bot so tall that he had to crane his neck. He was large and bulky and utterly oblivious to the cowering, flitting seeker only ten feet from his position.
Carefully, as if approaching a wild beast, Starscream took a step or two forwards. He kept his wings tight, a sure sign of hostility with seekers that the average grounder didn’t understand. Yet, as he neared, the bot turned its head and narrowed thin, red optics at him. His shoulders tensed and his fists curled; cautious hostility, reciprocated by Starscream’s initiation. He shouldn’t have relaxed his wings the miniscule amount that he did.
“You’re breaking curfew,” was the only thing that Starscream could manage to say.
The bot exhaled through his vents and turned his head away once more. “So are you.”
“I am not!” He snapped, indignation coursing through his veins. “I’m… doing schoolwork.”
There was not a single ounce of the bot that believed him, and he could tell. He didn’t seem to care, though, if the fact that he didn’t deign Starscream with a response was anything to go by. The blatant ignorance made his wings flutter, annoyance rippling through him like a drug. He took another step forwards, still cautious of overstepping and walking out of the encounter with an injury.
“I’m Starscream,” he said, mostly without thinking.
A beat of silence, then, “Megatron.”
“So.. why are you out here?”
“The same as you. Fresh air and silence. Do you always talk this much?”
Starscream’s optics slitted and he looked away with a huff. “No.”
“I doubt that. You’re named Starscream for a reason.”
“And why are you named Megatron? Because your ego is mega ?”
“Clever.”
Their scuffle was interrupted the second that Starscream drew himself upwards, ready to retort something that may or may not have gotten him beaten as a result. Light swung around only a few feet from them, and more footsteps echoed in the silence. Luckily, it was only one set, but Starscream’s heat scanners detected a large bot nearing rapidly. He didn’t hesitate.
His transformation was swift and exhilarating. It felt good to stretch his wings and soar into the sky, leaving behind the bustling city as he went. With so much artifical light, it was only inevitable that the stars would be snuffed out; but Cybertron’s scientists were smart, and they knew exactly how to manipulate their elements to their will. As such, the stars reflected against his cockpit’s window beautifully.
His audials picked up a sharp voice, surely from the security guard. It sounded artificial, and only then did Starscream realize that he’d very narrowly escaped the most notoriously strict guard on campus. Soundwave didn’t hesitate to crack down upon anybody caught breaking a rule, especially when it came to curfew. He likely would’ve wound up scrubbing toilets for the next week and a half, leaving him no time for the foolish homework he’d been assigned.
With an aerial flip, relishing in the way the moonlight hit the sleek, silver and red metal of his form, Starscream shot off towards his dorm room. Luckily for him, seekers often got rooms on higher floors with balconies. His heels hit the floor with a clang that rattled his teeth, and he exhaled softly. He longed to do more than a swift trip to his room, but he was very well aware of the result of him staying awake for long periods of time.
Starscream left the balcony door cracked open as he crawled into bed. He couldn’t stand the artificial, recycled air indoors. It didn’t flow through his vents in the same way. It was thick and suffocating. Leaving the door open, although surely dangerous and breaking a rule somehow, was the best way to ease that discomfort if he couldn’t simply stay outside at night. Curse the curfew, and curse the bots that followed it like a religion.
In between classes, Starscream worked the most miserable job that he possibly could. The pay was only somewhat worth slaving over ridiculous orders; the place had a miniscule menu in the first place, but somehow, there was at least one person hourly that managed to make the most difficult, repulsive combination of food known to mankind. He would’ve been convinced that it was some kind of personal attack if his coworkers didn’t complain about it more than he did.
“I don’t get it,” groaned Knockout, currently leaning over the counter as Starscream flipped a burger patty. “The menu’s supposed to be simple and easy. How do this many ’bots hate simplicity?”
Behind the pair, a scoff echoed through the kitchen. Starscream peered over his shoulders, only to be eye-to-eye with Arcee. Of course. Perhaps his most insufferable co-worker; uptight, followed the rules to a T until it inconvenienced her and expected everyone else to do the same. She had an attitude to match it. Starscream didn’t like her, to say the least.
“Knockout, focus,” she scolded, “shift ends in an hour.”
Knockout rolled his optics and pried himself from the counter. He grumbled something so quietly that even Starscream, ever-so-attuned to the air movement around them, was unable to pick it up. Arcee didn’t seem to notice, as she seemingly approved of his reluctant compliance and disappeared to the cash register to complete her tasks. It didn’t take long for Knockout to decide to continue breaking the rules, though.
Almost as if he were taunting Starscream, Knockout’s hand snaked around his slender waist right as he flipped the last patty. His wings shot upwards and he jolted, sending the patty flying across the counter. The resulting scream of dismay that wrenched from Starscream’s vocals had Knockout cackling, though he did retract his arm in order to do so. Infuriated, Starscream’s wings fluttered and he snarled at the insufferable wrench.
“I hate you,” Starscream spat.
Knockout laughed. “No, you don’t. I’m your only friend.”
“Not if you continue acting like that.”
“Mm, I’d love to see you try and cut me off.” Knockout’s lips curled into what he must’ve thought was an intimidating smile, but Starscream only scoffed and turned around.
He threw the patty into the trash with a single, fluid toss. His wings fluttered and he turned back to the stove with a smug glimmer in his eyes. Starscream was simply the best bot ever; it only made sense that he take advantage of any chance he had to show it off. If he were at all a vain, selfish creature, he would’ve insisted on admiring his reflection any chance he could get.
Fortunately for Starscream, his shift ended in peace. He retreated from the building with Knockout at his side and made it only a few blocks before his voice became annoying. For the umpteenth time, he transformed and took off into the sky. He made sure to leave a stream of smoke in Knockout’s face, much to his chagrin. Knockout, always the vain bot. Of course.
The sun was setting. Golden rays of light streamed from the horizon and lit up the world in a beautiful gradient. Starscream, indulging in a bit of longing, tilted his nose upwards and soared up, up, up, until his wings grazed the clouds and cold bit at every inch of him not heated by his engine. There was nothing that he adored more than the sky. It was more like family than his own.
Something caught his eye. Another bot was flying through the air, though it looked much too bulky and rusted to be a seeker. Curious, Starscream quickened his speed with one swift boost of energy until he was close enough to read the energy signatures emitting from the plane. The same energy signatures that had radiated boldly from Megatron the night before.
Interesting.
Starscream lurked nearby, training all of his focus on Megatron. There was no way that he was a seeker, even though he seemed to have a mild understanding of seeker body language and took the form of a plane. He was too large, his exoskeleton too thick, and he didn’t even have any visible wings. It was as fascinating as it was confusing and annoying. He despised not knowing something, even more-so when somebody else clearly did.
A soft click in the back of his processor drew his attention. A comm request. He snuck a little closer to Megatron before approving it; he knew that it had to be him, as he was much too far from the campus for anybody he knew to be able to reach him without more effort than any of them would want to take. Not to mention that at least half of them wouldn’t even bother requesting, since they had the approval to connect without a request.
“We meet again.” Megatron’s voice echoed in his mind.
Starscream flipped through the air until he was flying a good ten feet above Megatron. He still wasn’t quite sure what to make of the ominous bot that he’d encountered in the strangest moments and knew next to nothing about. It was infinitely better to keep his guard up, and to maintain the higher ground. Megatron didn’t seem to mind.
“So we do,” he agreed. “Even though it doesn’t make any sense.”
“Is that so?”
“You aren’t a seeker. You really shouldn’t even be able to fly. Your body isn’t built for it, yet… you are able to take on such a form.”
Silence. Starscream would have scowled if he had a face.
“We’ll see about that, Starscream.” Smug, yet challenging.
Megatron cut the commlink with a sharp nosedive, straight towards the ground. Starscream didn’t even hesitate — Megatron’s flight was clumsy, a direct opposite to the gracefulness that seekers possessed, even as he was clear and direct in his taunt. He enticed Starscream into a race that he was going to lose miserably, and Starscream was more than content to put him in his place.
Megatron didn't know how to use the wind to his advantage, didn't know how the slightest shift in his position could change the speed and even the safety of air travel. It was obvious in the clunky way that he twisted and turned, as if he was attempting to throw Starscream off of his tail and lose him. Starscream was a flight expert, though, and he remained perfectly locked onto his target the entire time. He even went out of his way to swerve around clouds, flipping and spiralling and swirling as Megatron brute-forced his way through them.
Despite Megatron’s inexperience, the chase was exciting. Exhilarating, elating, intoxicating. He was faster, smaller, more graceful; and Megatron clearly never backed down from a challenge. More than once, Starscream drew so close that he could brush the tips of their wings together if he truly desired — as much of a taunt as it was him showing off. Any other day, he would've taken the challenge with great offense, but oh, he needed it as much as he needed energon to live.
Megatron connected to his comms with another soft click. Starscream sneered and flipped around him until he was able to kick forwards and send Megatron in the dust.
“It was a mistake to challenge me,” Starscream gloated shamelessly. “The best seeker in this part of the world.”
Megatron was quiet for a moment. Then, “I believe you are known for your ego, not your flight ability.”
“Before my ‘ego’ comes my flight ability, fool!”
“You call me the fool, Starscream?”
He didn't have long to be furious. Megatron yelled over the comms as his engine cut and then, suddenly, he was dropping. The instinctive flare of his wings might have slowed the fall of a seeker, but not a creature of his size. He couldn't reliably support himself in the air, and Starscream was well aware of the consequences of such an attempt. His spark spun in his chest and, without a second thought, he was diving down after Megatron.
The two of them transformed at the same time. Starscream flung himself against Megatron’s chest, grasping thin talons around that thick exoskeleton. Wind bit at them, aiming to kill, and Starscream ground his teeth together with the amount of focus it took to remain in contact with the big, bulky idiot that thought he would be able to fly like a seeker model. Megatron stared at him, optics wide with emotion that he couldn't quite read; but he was focused and determined and, as such, he kept his own optics trained on the rapidly approaching ground.
His transformation cog whirred deep in his chassis. Starscream’s legs clicked and shifted into the one thing that would help them both — two jet engines, fully powered and firing the moment that they formed. Unfortunately, due to the fact that Megatron was still heavier than the average seeker, there was no way to get him back into the air. He grit his teeth until his jaw creaked, flared his wings, and kept his gaze locked over Megatron’s big head to watch the ground near.
“Keep yourself still,” Starscream hissed over the wind whipping against them. “I’ve got this under control.”
Luckily, their drop was no longer straight. With the help of his engines and wings, Starscream was able to instead direct them into a steady, steep descent. It took an extra few minutes until their feet brushed against the grass, and then they tumbled onto the ground with loud groans and grunts. They rolled over one another for a couple of feet, until Megatron had enough and grasped at Starscream hard enough to keep him still.
Starscream’s vents strained for air as he slumped onto Megatron’s chest. He swiftly tucked his engines back into his feet, but his wings were somewhat crumpled and his exoskeleton was covered in scratches and dents. There was no avoiding the fact that he would need to visit a medic once they returned to society — even Megatron, with his tough outer shell, was scratched to oblivion.
“I may not know as much about flight as I thought I did,” Megatron admitted wryly as his optics fluttered shut. “I… believe some lessons may be due.”
Starscream’s wings twitched, and he dropped his head to rest against Megatron’s chestplate. He could sense the way both of their sparks were spinning deep in their chassis, almost in-sync. Although that certainly wasn't Starscream’s first time navigating a crash-landing, especially with his reckless flight patterns, it didn't make it any less straining to do.
Megatron’s hands never moved from their spots on Starscream’s waist. He opted not to mention it, even though his core burnt a little hotter once he realized.
“I was right, then,” Starscream pointed out, all without raising his head. “Your natural form is not a jet. What is it, and how did you gain the ability to change it?”
Megatron let out a long, stifled sigh. “Its a long story, and it's not one that I have the ability to share. Trust me when I tell you that I do not take on the form with ill intent, that is all I ask.”
Starscream grumbled and drew his legs up until they practically straddled Megatron. He was much larger up close, especially once Starscream realized that his feet couldn't touch the ground from where he was laying. Even when he stretched his legs as far as they would extend, he still couldn't even come close. It left his spark spinning oddly in his chest and alerts in his HUD about sudden increase in body heat. He cleared the alerts as soon as they appeared.
“We will need to return soon,” Megatron prompted, the second that Starscream was beginning to relax against the rise and fall of his chassis and the whir of his spark.
He rolled his optics and sat up until he could stumble his way off of Megatron. It took way more effort than he expected, and he wound up nearly crumpled onto the floor once more. A groan rolled from his intake, and then there was a hand placed firmly on his shoulder. Megatron stood up behind him, much more sturdy and sure on his feet. Because of course he was. That was what he was familiar with.
Annoyed and humiliated, Starscream shrugged off the hand and scowled. “As long as you think you can fly back like this. I'm not getting a medic all the way out here.”
Megatron made a vaguely amused noise somewhere between a snort and a scoff. “I may be able to, but you most certainly will not. I will have to carry you.”
Starscream’s wings snapped up and he gaped openly at Megatron. Was he serious? A seeker, allowing himself to be flown by a cheap imitation that could barely fly himself? That was more likely to kill them than it was to save them! His optics scanned Megatron’s expression, flitting between his as if he could find any semblance of a joke in there. There was none.
He was so dead.
“... Fine,” he muttered reluctantly, curling his fingers into tight fists. “But I am going to kill you when we return.”
“Sure you will,” Megatron mused.
With a few strained clicks, Megatron transformed. He didn't take off immediately like Starscream half-expected him to, and instead waited until he clambered clumsily onto the top of the jet and clutched at any purchase he could get. His talons dug in with the grip of a polished vice. Only then did Megatron allow his engine to activate and send them into the air.
It was as embarrassing as it was intimidating.
The two of them wound up at a hospital not far from campus. Even though Megatron insisted that he was fine, he had been put to bedrest in the same room as Starscream. Of course, it wasn't like they would be there for long, but still — he wanted nothing to do with Megatron after such a fiasco, and the small part of him that yearned for company was a terrible, foolish liar.
He didn't have many friends anymore. Especially after he'd left his hometown for college. He'd been relatively popular within the seekers at his high school, but not many were worth keeping around and even less wanted anything to do with him. Thundercracker and Skywarp, though, were by far the worst to part with. He had to snuff thoughts of them from his processor the moment that they arrived, lest he succumb to emotion.
Other people would call him lonely. Starscream preferred to consider himself preparing for the future. As he lay in the cot, he kept his gaze on the ceiling above him. A nurse had visited him already and determined that he didn't need any replacements, much to his relief. He needed to be smoothed out and would likely need a new coat of paint, but none of the damage was expensive or fatal and none had punctured his exoskeleton.
Megatron was better off than he was. There were some bonuses to being a walking hunk of metal, he supposed. He would never sacrifice his flight ability for more endurance, though. What was even the point, when he was going to make his living off of exploring the vastness of outer space instead of being rooted to the ground like a tree? Starscream would be a free bot, whether the world liked it or not.
It was another day before Starscream and Megatron were allowed to see the light of day again. They stood in the lot of the hospital together, so close that Starscream’s wings would brush against Megatron’s arm if he stepped any closer. The day had been spent filled with menial small talk that neither of them understood the point of, but they knew that they were one another’s only company. Starscream had no family, no friends, and loneliness gripped at him; while Megatron simply did not see the point in meddlesome connections.
At least, that's what he told Starscream. He didn't miss the way that Megatron’s optics pointedly avoided looking directly at him and instead narrowed on the wall behind him. A trick that likely would've fooled anyone that wasn't hyperaware of everything. Starscream allowed him the lie, though — it wasn't his place to question the motives of a stranger, after all. Even if he'd saved that stranger's life.
“Politics, huh?” Starscream mused, gazing up at the sky longingly. “Do you plan to take over the world or something?”
Megatron smirked. “Something like that.”
Entertaining the joke, Starscream rolled his optics. “You’d better assure me a place in your ranks if you ever succeed,” he threatened half-heartedly.
Starscream glanced over at him in time to see the faint surprise on his face shift to a small smile, warm and genuine. His spark whirred in his chassis and, in a fraction of a second, he realized that he didn't want Megatron out of his sight anytime soon. After all, how could somebody as heroic and wonderful as him leave a clumsy grounder to navigate flight? How could the best company Megatron would ever get leave him to be surrounded by much lowlier bots?
His wings stiffened and he drew himself up. Starscream’s fans kicked up, circulating cool air through his systems in a futile attempt to ease the sudden heat rising. He was being a fool, reckless and impulsive; but wasn't that what he was best at? He hardly knew Megatron yet he got a thrill from him not unlike touching the clouds with his wingtips, and perhaps that was what was so enticing.
“Meet me just outside campus as the sun sets tonight. You have a lot more to learn about flight.”
Starscream didn't want for an answer. He took off into the air. His audials rang persistently and his spark couldn't seem to settle down. He was doomed. He was so beyond doomed. He hadn't felt such a magnetic, insufferable pull towards another bot since his youth.