Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

'Insignificant' was a word with many meanings.

As Starscream stood, gazing up at the blanket of stars in the night sky, he wondered about Cybertron. It was common knowledge that there was life out there, though further studies showed that most of it consisted of unintelligent, single-celled organisms. Was it possible that something existed that was more powerful, more intelligent, more advanced than they could even begin to imagine? Was Cybertron nothing but a mere speck in the vast expanse of reality? When their planet reached its final stages, would it die invisible or would it impact the rest of the galaxy?

Was it as insignificant as he felt?

Vos was a large kingdom. Every building stretched towards the sky like millions of servos reaching for the stars. Bright lights danced along concrete, illuminating the land with every colour of the rainbow. Luxury seeped from building and bot alike in dripping gold, as if blessed by the AllSpark personally. All of it was under the rule of the King of Vos — a seeker larger than most, with sleek wings and a glimmer in his optics that never quite died. He was a kind, just ruler, although mildly incompetent when it came to family matters.

Starscream knew that fact better than most. He sat sullenly at a table deep within the palace he'd grown up in, stirring his energon with a single digit. His wings drooped. Across the room stood the King, arms folded across his chassis and a stern frown painting his face plates in a grotesque manner. His own wings stood tall and flared outwards in an open hostility that Starscream couldn't quite bear to match even as his spark swirled and his fuel tanks lurched.

"What did I tell you about picking fights, Starscream?" The cold disappointment in the king's voice was sickening. Starscream would rather have been yelled at.

His servos twitched. "They grabbed my wings! Do you expect me to simply sit around as those wretched grounders treat a prince like a plaything?"

The king exhaled slowly through shuttered vents. "You have a lot to learn about the world."

Starscream grunted, annoyed, and slid the container his energon sat in across the table. Some of it sloshed over the edge and painted the deep bronze a vibrant blue. He pointedly ignored the way the king turned his nose up at the gesture, as if the mere sight of a small mess was something to be ashamed of. Perhaps if it was his table, he would have done the same, but he couldn't quite bring himself to care. He was tired of being lectured for standing up for himself.

"If you want to try and appease Iacon by suppressing everything that makes a seeker, then you are sorely mistaken," Starscream sneered, optics flashing. "And I will not be scolded into obeying like some kind of stray sparkling!"

As he turned his back and flicked his wings in a fluid gesture, the king snorted. "Stop acting like one, then."

Starscream didn't grace that with a response. He stormed out, wings fluttering furiously and servos clenched tightly. The blatant disrespect dug beneath his exoskeleton in a way that little else did. He deserved to be listened to as much as any other bot, and he was tired of the rest of the world thinking otherwise! How many times must he have the same argument over and over again until the king realized? How long would he have to live with the constant belittling and assumption that he was incompetent solely because he was smaller, more lithe and therefore fragile than the rest of them?

It was exhausting. He was as capable as all of them. In fact, he was better!

He made his way through the palace, stewing furiously the entire time, until his pedes crossed into shelter. Almost as if upon instinct, Starscream entered the palace library — the one place that had felt like home to him after long, miserable days like the one he'd just suffered through. With the recent technological rise, there were very few physical copies of knowledge left on the planet that weren't stored in some archivalist's basement. Vos' palace library was one of the few locations large enough to hold almost every physical book that Starscream could snag from stores before it was too late.

He was rather proud of his collection. Proud enough to raise his chin as he stalked through his territory, delegating a moment to preen over himself to make up for the hit to his pride earlier.

Proud enough to immediately notice a stranger sifting through a pile of books.

Immediately, Starscream snapped to attention. He strode over in a few brief seconds and glowered up at a deep blue frame with flashing optics and flared wings. The general public was only allowed in the palace for special occasions, and the library was never included in that. His territory was being invaded; he was already in a terrible mood, and the stubborn alerts in the back of his processor that his fuel tanks were low only soured it.

The stranger didn't seem to notice him. He was a solid amount taller than Starscream, though that wasn't saying much. Starscream was short, even for a seeker. He often had to look up at other bots, much to his chagrin. The stranger's optics were as deep of a blue as the paint he donned, and they narrowed with focus as he flipped through one of the books. At the very least, he did treat the book with care, as if he expected it to fall apart in his servos.

"Who do you think you are?" Starscream hissed, scowling furiously.

To his credit, the stranger didn't even flinch. He raised those optics and trained them steadily on the fuming Starscream for a few moments. Then, right as Starscream was about to demand an answer, they rounded in a pleasantly humoured way. One servo lifted while the other waited to follow suite until the book had been placed tenderly into its spot. His dermas curved into an easygoing smile.

"Starscream, Prince of Vos," the stranger said smoothly, as if he'd been expecting Starscream to show up. "Its a pleasure to finally meet you."

Starscream's wings flicked. The stranger seemed to think that he could get out of the situation by adhering to his ego, and he was ashamed to admit that it did work. Some of the tension slipped from his slender frame, but not all of it. There were far too many questions that he had before he could truly slip, boosted pride and all.

"Answer my question."

"My name is Sentinel, one of the many advisors of the Primes," he confessed without batting an optic. "I'm to be attending a meeting with the King soon. In the meantime, I was given free reign of the palace."

Of course he was. Starscream sighed; a long, miserable noise, and allowed his wings to drop. Somewhere in the back of his processor, he wondered how easy it would be for him to get away with tearing the king's spark straight from his chassis. Allowing a complete stranger, whether or not they worked for the Primes, access to the entire palace unsupervised, was quite possibly the worst decision that he could've made. He could have stolen access to incredibly valuable documents before anyone even realized that he was present!

"How welcoming," Starscream muttered, not even bothering to conceal his disdain.

Sentinel either didn't notice, or he didn't care. The blue of his optics glimmered in the warm lighting. Starscream gazed at him and realized, with no contentment, that he was a beautiful mech. He had always held a fondness for the colour blue on others — the deeper, the better. His own vibrant red contrasted it in a pleasing way. Starscream's wings flicked back as his thoughts wandered down a very different path than he wanted them to.

Sentinel had large servos, yet his treatment of the book earlier had proven that he could be gentle with them. Starscream pictured those digits trailing over the sensitive plating of his wings and digging beneath to prod at wires and cables. Mortified, he banished the thought before it could go any further, and held his chin high to conceal the spinning of his spark. He was typically shameless with his desire — after all, he was a prince and a seeker, the object of many fantasies, and he could use that to get with whoever he wanted.

But Sentinel was closely associated with the Primes.

"Would you feel better if I requested a tour of you?" Sentinel questioned, amused.

Starscream sniffed. "Unnecessary. You've made yourself quite at home here already."

"Not quite. I've spent most of my time here."

Starscream's optics slitted suspiciously. He didn't want to spend even more time around Sentinel, lest he get carried away with himself. Yet, he couldn't deny the way his chassis warmed when he trained his gaze on Sentinel's friendly smile. He'd never been the master of self-restraint, ever the selfish seeker. For the most part, it worked in his favour. Most people thought seekers too incapable to do something self-serving.

"Fine," he caved with a sigh, already turning on his heel. "But don't you dare let yourself out of my sight."

Sentinel hummed. "Are you always this paranoid?"

"Are you always this annoying?"

Sentinel's resulting chuckle had Starscream's spark spinning harder. He simply ignored it, steeled himself, and left the room without checking to make sure that he was being followed. The sound of Sentinel's heel struts on the floor confirmed that well enough, and he didn't feel like initiating more contact than he had to. With his wings high and his form alert, he guided Sentinel down the first hallway that he spotted.

For the most part, Sentinel was decent company. He didn't talk so much that it grated on every nerve, but he wasn't awkwardly quiet, either. He knew when and what to say to raise the faintest amusement in Starscream, and always treated a laugh or smile as if it was treasure. Before long, they wound up in the main dining room, sitting across one another with energon cubes in front of them.

Sentinel was telling a story about one of the Primes — Zeta, possibly — that Starscream had stopped paying attention to in favour of watching the way his servos moved when he talked. It was fascinating.

But there was something wrong. It lingered in the back of Starscream's processor, a sense of dread that mingled with the warmth in his chassis. At first, he brushed it off as the fact that he'd been so caught off-guard by the sudden intrusion but as time passed and it still didn't fade, he was forced to look a little closer. Perhaps it was the lilt of his voice, the carelessly elegant way that he carried himself. As if he were at the top of the world.

Or perhaps it was the ambition poorly concealed behind his optics as he questioned Starscream about Vos' trophy room only mere hours before. Perhaps it was the way that his digits twitched when Starscream declined to talk further about it, as if there was something in the room that he wanted to get his servos on. It could've been the way his smile never quite reached his optics all the way. There was too much wrong, and it sent Starscream's instincts snarling.

Starscream cleared his intake roughly and drained the last of his energon in one fell swoop. "The King will be expecting you by now," he said, leaning on the centre of his servo and casting Sentinel a lazy grin. "I expect to hear the end of your story, though."

Sentinel paused, the smile on his face flickering for a brief second before he corrected himself. "Of course. Farewell, my Prince."

He rose to his pedes and followed his statement with a deep bow. Satisfaction sparked in his chassis, but he merely grunted his pleasure and waved his free servo to send Sentinel on his way. He watched closely as he walked out, observing the stiffness in his frame. Whatever the meeting was about, there likely was not an outcome possible that Starscream would enjoy. He leaned back in his chair until he could stare at the ceiling and prepare himself for a long night.

Chapter Text

If Starscream spent the next hours lurking outside of the throne room, nobody had to know. He kept his audials alert in an attempt to listen in on what was surely a very private conversation, but the voices were too muffled for him to pick up on. Irritated, his wings rode high on his back and his facial plates pinched into a tight scowl. Sentinel reeked too foul to not be planning something, and he was determined to find out what.

The meeting lasted longer than expected and, by the end of it, Starscream was no less lost than he was before. He inched backwards as he heard two sets of pedesteps approach the grand double doors and tucked his wings into a submissive position with great effort. The fact that Sentinel must see him in such a place burnt at his chassis, but his and the King's argument was still fresh in his processor and he'd rather not worsen his situation further. Pride be damned. He could assert himself over Sentinel later.

The King didn't spare him a glance as he opened the door with broad arms. He smiled at Sentinel and pat the mech on his shoulder. For them to be so friendly already… Starscream's optics narrowed.

"I appreciate you finding time to come all the way out here," the King was saying. "I do hope to see you sometime soon to continue our, ah, discussion."

Sentinel chuckled lowly. The dangerous edge of it didn't seem to register in the King's processor as it did for Starscream. His denta, sharp and the richest white Starscream had ever seen, glinted under the bright ceiling lights. The sight sent the smallest of thrills through Starscream's core, and he did his very best to keep his expression neutral. He wanted those denta at his throat, tearing at cables until he spilled energon. He wanted those derma at his voice box, feeling the rumble of his whimpering.

He wanted to slam Sentinel against the nearest wall and frag him so well that he spilled all of his secrets.

"Of course, Your Majesty," Sentinel hummed, mimicking the deep bow he'd given Starscream earlier. "Now, if you don't mind, Prince Starscream here offered to escort me out himself."

The King smiled thinly at Starscream, whose wings twitched. "How kind of you. Try not to cause too much trouble."

Starscream scoffed and turned around so quickly that his gyroscope off-set for a split-second. He didn't wait for them to readjust, nor did he wait for Sentinel to depart before he was walking away with his chin in the air and his hips swinging. His heel struts clicked against the floor, the sound enhanced by the effort with which he put each pes down. Annoyance streamed through his veins, mingled with the suspicious anxiety and heady arousal already there.

Sentinel stuck close to his side and, for the most part, kept quiet. The occasional, subtle glance that Starscream shot him showed an expression of deep thought. Some unrecognizable emotion smouldered deep in his optics, darkening the already deep blue colour. It was as unnerving as it was attractive. Air caught in Starscream's vents. There was something deeply wrong with him, if he had to suppress his body's cooling fans simply because of a bit of fear.

Then again, he'd always been messed up.

Only when they neared the entrance did Sentinel speak up. His voice rumbled in his throat, silky smooth and rich with charisma that flowed like the finest energon. "You never completed your tour, my prince."

Starscream halted in his tracks. "No?"

"No," he hummed, "you didn't show me your berthroom."

Oh.

Starscream's vents hitched and shuddered. His wings rose slightly, fluttering alongside his spark. He took a moment to collect himself before turning around and meeting those dangerous optics with his own stubborn gaze. If Sentinel wanted to flirt with him like that, he wasn't going to make it easy for him. He never did — that was half of the fun, to be able to push at somebody's nerves until they snapped. To toe the line between desire and hatred and see when and where he crossed it.

"When did I promise that was included in the tour?" He snapped, optics flashing.

Sentinel's smile curled wildly. "Would it not be well-mannered of you? I will be returning eventually, you know."

He set his jaw and flared his wings. "There are plenty of guest berths."

"Oh, you misunderstand, my prince. I do not intend to share a berth with you. I'm merely curious."

Sentinel raised both servos as he spoke and dropped his smile in favour of a concerned frown, as if he mistook Starscream's defiance as discomfort. Yet, there was still something in the way he held himself. Something that Starscream couldn't quite place. He stared for a moment before ultimately lowering his wings and loosening his scowl. It never quite faded, but then again, it never had. He seemed to be permanently scowling lately.

"Curiosity," he muttered wryly, before speaking up, "Fine. I will entertain your curiosity. Follow me."

Starscream opened the door to his room, spark swirling with anticipation. At some point during their walk, Sentinel had pushed his luck and hovered a little too close to Starscream's slender form for someone with pure intent. His servos remained at his sides, but Starscream knew the sensation of being watched, of having his body examined, from experience. In most cases, it was uncomfortable and humiliating.
That time, his chassis only burnt hotter.

Starscream self-consciously scanned his room in sync with Sentinel's curiosity. Red paint draped all walls but one, as floor-to-ceiling windows spanned the wall and allowed blinding amounts of sunlight to enter the room. It wasn't a large room by any means, mostly because Vosian architecture exchanged width for height. Half of the windows had been left open when Starscream left that morning, purely to keep fresh air circulating. He would've completely left that wall open to the world if he weren't concerned about the weather ruining his things.

His berth was large enough for three seekers to stretch out on and still have room. The plush lining it and the padding on the walls of it were both soft and velvety. In contrast to the red on his walls, the material was a striking gold and pearly white. Beneath the berth, spanning across a good portion of the room, was a deep red-and-golden rug. The colours swirled together and mixed with his berth well.
Sentinel seemingly approved. He rested one servo on his hip as his gaze trailed over hanging shelves overflowing with plants of every colour and the strips of light embedded into the far wall. It certainly screamed out its owner's name with pride.

"Well?" Starscream prodded, "Impressed?"

"Very."

His spark warmed, and he made a small, satisfied noise — only to be interrupted by movement in the corner of his optics. Starscream's head snapped over, mouth already open to make some snide remark. He stopped before he could come up with anything to say. Sentinel pressed his form close to Starscream's, close enough that his audials picked up on his cooling fans whirring. They did nothing to ease the heat that radiated from Sentinel.

Starscream cleared his intake before he could think to mask his nervousness. He had to tilt his head up to meet Sentinel's inspection. He didn't have to hold it there for long. A large, silver servo reached up and cradled his cheek in it tenderly. His opposable digit brushed beneath Starscream's optic, soft and warm and endearing. Without even thinking, he leaned into the touch — and didn't even notice his fans beginning to scream.

"I'm more impressed with you, though," Sentinel murmured, leaning in close so that Starscream could feel his breath on his audials. "I hear a lot about how beautiful the Prince of Seekers is, but.. to see that with my own optics is a privilege I never thought I was worthy of."

Starscream scoffed. "You should become a poet."

Sentinel was deliberately stroking his ego, and he knew it. He leaned eagerly into the strokes nonetheless, preening like some kind of cyberbird. Whatever Sentinel's plan was, surely it wouldn't hurt to fall under those servos for a night and succumb to mindless pleasure?

"Maybe. I would much rather become yours for a night."

Starscream watched with slitted optics — not out of suspicion or annoyance that time, but rather with heated arousal — as Sentinel leaned in further, until their dermas brushed together. They offlined the moment that their mouths connected in a passionate kiss. It was gentler than any other time Starscream had been kissed, though it's not like it was a common occurrence. Most of his berth-mates had little interest in such intimacy, merely seeking a quick frag and power grab before retreating to their homes for the night.

It was wonderful.

He groaned into Sentinel's mouth as that other servo reached out to grasp him by the waist and pulled their forms flush to one another. Starscream practically had to stand on the very edges of his pedes to push his groin against Sentinel's, but he was desperate enough to ignore the awkwardness in favour of proximity. The servo on his waist held tighter, two digits hooking beneath plating in order to brush against tender wires. His hips jumped and his intake caught.

"Beautiful," Sentinel whispered against his dermas, breaking the kiss to watch a little closer as Starscream wriggled in a way that he hoped was enticing.

"Careful," Starscream warned breathlessly, "praise me too much, and I might overload on the spot."

Sentinel's optics twinkled. "Is that so? Best get you on the berth, then. Lean over, on your knees."

Starscream huffed, even as energon sent straight downwards and his valve pulsed in tandem with his spark. He spread his wings enticingly as he crawled onto the bed. Sentinel stalked closer and watched him until he rested his helm against one arm and arched his back just enough to show off his already-dripping intimacy panels. His legs spread and he bit back a groan as Sentinel hurried to take his place between them.

"How long were you thinking about me like this?" Sentinel questioned — no, commanded.

A warm servo ran up his spine, trailed along the edges of his wings and pushed his head a little further down until a whimper broke from his voice box. He rocked his hips backwards, pushing their panels together with a desperate determination. There was no reason to waste time and effort talking about his thoughts when they were both already so worked up. He contemplated begging Sentinel to hurry up and frag him already, but decided that he wasn't far enough gone to resort to that quite yet.

"Does it matter?" He snarked, curling sharp digits into the padding.

"Amuse me."

His servo stilled in the centre of Starscream's wing pack. The warmth of it felt good to his oversensitive body, but the lack of sensation had him rocking a second time. Sentinel's spare servo immediately dug into his waist to keep him still, ignorant to the agonized whimper he received as a result.

"Too long," Starscream managed, turning his head to bury his face in the crook of his elbow. "From the moment I looked at you."

Sentinel must have been pleased to hear that, as his words were swiftly heeded by the soft clicks of an interface panel sliding open. Hurriedly, Starscream's own followed suit, and he gasped softly at the cold air against his dripping valve. Thick lubricant had begun pooling against the panel and, now that it was open, slipped down one of Starscream's slender thighs. Sentinel's already stiff spike caught it on the tip as he thrusted his hips forwards, dragging it between his valve's folds.

"I must be luckier than I thought," he was saying, though Starscream could scarcely pay attention. "The Prince of Vos so desperate for me already, and I've barely touched him!"

Of course Sentinel was the power-trip type. Starscream resisted the urge to sigh, both unsurprised and unamused. There were plenty of people who dreamed about getting a royal to bend over for them, and Sentinel was apparently no exception. Frustration wallowed in his chassis, only to be drowned out by mind-numbing pleasure when Sentinel stopped preening for long enough to slip into his valve.
His mouth hung open at the feeling of being stretched. Sentinel was no small mech, and it showed. Callipers squeezed around the intrusion, sucking him in greedily with little regard for the sting. If anything, it only served to make Starscream run hotter than before. He shifted enough to spread his legs further, inviting Sentinel to take all of him in stride. It felt so good, better than he'd felt in a long time.

Sentinel had no mercy. He pushed and pushed, groaning and mumbling something about how tight Starscream's valve was. He'd moved his hand from the centre of fluttering wings to rest on the other hip, and now his digits prodded against exposed wires as they mercilessly dug into Starscream's bared joints. Starscream moaned and canted his hips, silently begging for more and more.

"Greedy seeker," Sentinel huffed, already so breathless. "Desperate little thing."

Starscream had only a whine to offer in return.

The moment Sentinel could fit himself without resistance, he adjusted his grip on slender hips, drew back and then thrusted in so hard that a cry punched itself from Starscream's voice box. His head raised for long enough to blink blearily at the wall before falling back against his arm. He rocked with every thrust, thoroughly engaged in a dance of molten pleasure that bubbled around them and threatened to drown him. There were no more thoughts about Sentinel's ambitions, no more suspicion and paranoia and irritation.

Only the best euphoria that he'd ever felt.

It didn't take long for them to near overload. Starscream whimpered and pleaded senselessly. His callipers squeezed around Sentinel's twitching spike, every ounce of his body begging for release. His wings raised tight along his spine and he clutched at the berth so hard that his digits creaked. Everything was burning, and he couldn't see, and it was so good, so mindless. Sentinel was as affected as he was — and he wasn't afraid to show it.

Gasps and moans fell from Sentinel as they did with Starscream, such a pleasant contrast to past experience. Sentinel's grip on him tightened and tightened until his fragile metallic exoskeleton began to dent, and only then did he loosen up. But just enough to prevent further damage. It had his spark whirling in his chest. When he left his berth, everybody would look at him and know exactly what he'd been up to.
"Sentinel," Starscream moaned, "please— please, don't stop— I need-.."

"Tell me, my prince," Sentinel leaned forwards to murmur those words into his audial.

Starscream cried at that. Tears pooled in the corners of his optics. He was so close, he just needed a bit more time— “Don’t stop. I need– need you to–”

Sharp pain pierced Starscream before he could even realize what was happening. It stabbed into his wing, into his shoulder and then sent lightning through his spine. He overloaded with a shout of Sentinel's name, sobbing and writhing all the way. If Sentinel overloaded at the same time, he was far too engrossed in his own pleasure to realize. He choked on a sob. His optics offlined.

When the world returned to Starscream, the first thing that he noticed was the dull aching all over his body. One wing was sore, his pelvis felt like it was on fire, and his voice box crackled with static. He groaned and rolled onto his side, lifting his wing and twisting his head awkwardly to assess the damage. Checking whether he was alone in his berth could wait — he needed to make sure that Sentinel hadn't damaged anything important.

An ugly, energon-stained dent in the curved shape of vicious denta greeted his optics. The sight should have irked him. Anybody else messing with his wings like that would have had him shrieking and sprinting straight for a medic to buff him back up, but somehow the thought of Sentinel's malice showing itself with bared denta only had his cooling fans kicking on. He rumbled in complaint to himself anyway, but didn't bother trying to stand up. His hips ached too much for that.

Instead, he lifted his head to examine the room. He was alone. Disappointment flickered in his chassis, only to immediately fade when his gaze landed on a piece of paper hastily thrown onto the edge of his berth. He sat up, wings twitching, and raised the paper to his optics.

'Dearest Prince, duty calls. I will see you soon, if you please.'

With a smile far too soft to have come from Starscream, he crumbled the paper and tossed it across the room to be cleaned up at a later date. He needed to recharge for an hour or so longer, and then take the nicest shower of his life before he got his injury checked out. Hopefully, that would be enough time to come up with a reason why he disappeared with Sentinel for a few hours and returned with a large bite-mark in his wing.

Chapter Text

Easily the best part about a good frag was the bath that Starscream got to take afterwards. He sat, half-submerged in warm oil and bubbling solvent, rubbing at scuffs in his plating absently. His hips were sore, and his wing stung every time he brushed his digits over the dented plating. Luckily, the spilled energon was easily scrubbed off of him, but it left the wound open to the cold air. He shivered and twitched his wings, as if it would ease some of the sting. He would have to visit a medic soon.
For the moment, however, Starscream was free to enjoy his bath in peace. He stretched his chassis out, sliding downwards until his chin brushed the surface and disturbed the bubbles resting there. Oil slid smoothly around him and over exposed joints, cleansing even more debris from him. He allowed his helm to rest against the edge of the tub and stared at the ceiling.

Sentinel had done a number on him. His spark whirled in his chest as memory files resurfaced, playing that voice into his processor as if taunting him. He had the kind of voice that Starscream wouldn't mind listening to for hours on end. The kind of voice that strung webs across his chassis, catching his spark in its dangerous trap. It was a terrible idea to allow himself to feel the way he did and, yet, he didn't quite mind stumbling blindly into such a pit.

Sure, he had no real proof that Sentinel was a scheming, devious maniac, but he'd spent enough of his lifetime around scheming, devious maniacs to know when somebody was one. He was good at hiding it behind cheerful smiles and light-hearted words, but Starscream could sense the ill-intent beneath it all.

Or, perhaps, he was being paranoid. Perhaps it was all in his mind.

He offlined his optics and let out a long, suffering sigh. There was only one solution to ease his troubles at the moment, however much he did not want to deal with it. Starscream pushed himself back up into a sitting position and hurriedly washed the rest of himself off before draining the tub. He was in for a long, miserable day with miserable company and miserable conversations. At the end of the day, curiosity drove him more than little else did, and he was a victim to his own overworked processor.

Optics laid on him the moment that he opened that wretched door. Starscream stiffened his spine and jutted his chin. He kept his wings carefully still, though there wasn't any point in hiding that portion of his body language. The four bots in the room knew him well enough to read his body as a whole, rather than relying solely on his wings like some did. A conversation between the four had clearly been interrupted, but Starscream didn't care. It was likely of little importance anyway, given the annoyance shining in certain optics.

"Starscream," Thundercracker's voice, as steady as ever, was somewhat laced with surprise. "You're here."

"I'm here," Starscream echoed.

Beside Thundercracker lay Skywarp, sprawled out on a cot with a dramatic flair. His deep purple plating was covered in hundreds of little scratches and dents. On the opposite side of the cot was Shockwave — Starscream's medic, although he certainly acted more like some kind of mad scientist than a medic — who was the source of the annoyance. His singular optic held little expression, but Starscream had spent enough time on the field with him to understand the way his shoulders tightened and his servos curled.

Skywarp wriggled on his cot, but a firm blue servo to his chassis kept him still. "He can't repair you if you keep wiggling," chastised Thundercracker softly.

Starscream huffed and walked closer until he could drag a spare stool over and plop himself down onto it. "What have you two even been doing?"

"My idea," Skywarp giggled, though he did make an effort to remain still. "We raced through a bunch of trees. I lost."

Shockwave exhaled; a long, tortured noise, and resumed his buffing of Skywarp's exoskeleton. He looked like he would've much preferred to take him apart and observe whatever went wrong in his processor when he was created. Amused, Starscream shot a glance at Thundercracker which was swiftly shut down by a soft shake of his head. Skywarp was in constant trouble with nothing to do — much like Starscream himself — and he was sure that, had he been able to be reached, he would be in the exact same spot.

"So," Skywarp blinked over Shockwave at Starscream, "where have you been?"

Starscream groaned and shoved his face into his servos. "Grounded, like some kind of misbehaved sparkling. Kind of. I technically could've left, but.. I,"

He paused and flicked his wings. His trine, ever so attuned to his emotions, realized immediately what that meant. Thundercracker snorted and shook his head, though his dermas curved at the edges enough to show that his disapproval was mere teasing fondness. Skywarp, on the other hand, had begun to jitter excitedly, as if he was about to begin teleporting all over the place. That didn't seem to phase Shockwave very much, because he quietly kept on about his work with nothing other than the occasional curious glance at the trio.

"There is a small pause in the war," Thundercracker mused. "Who was it with?"

"That's the problem. It was one of the Primes' advisors."

Silence. Starscream twitched anxiously and kept his gaze averted so he didn't have to see the shock on his trine's faces.

"Which one?" Skywarp asked before Thundercracker could scold him.

"Sentinel. He's new. He came to a meeting with the King, and, well.. stayed longer."

"Does he even know you're High Guard?"

Starscream scoffed. "Does anybody, outside of you three and Soundwave?"

"Fair point," Skywarp grinned easily. "I want to see the look on his face when he realizes he fragged a prince and a High Guard."

Starscream shuffled and averted his optics, wings fluttering. He didn't want to imagine how Sentinel would react. He did seem interested in continuing their relationship, but there was no saying how he would feel if he was made aware of the danger Starscream was constantly part of. It wouldn't be much of an issue if he were certain that they were solely a one-night stand. When it came to Starscream, though, his personal affairs were very much a gamble.

Perhaps he'd come to hate Sentinel as he learnt more about him and cast him to the side officially, where they wouldn't have to worry about one another. He had also thought that about Skywarp and Thundercracker, however, and then they wound up trined. He'd thought that about Shockwave and Soundwave, then they wound up on the High Guard together. There truly wasn't much predictability.

"It was just a frag," Starscream huffed, more to convince himself than his trine. "Its not like we're a thing. I don't even know anything about him."

A mischievous glimmer in Skywarp's optics had Starscream narrowing his own. He knew exactly what was going on in that processor and, though it was the same plan he had, he itched to stop it before it could come to fruition. Thundercracker shuttered his vents to suppress an exasperated exhale, and that only made Skywarp grin harder.

"I know who can help with that!"

"Skywarp, we are not asking Soundwave to spy on Starscream's newest situationship—"

"Hey!" Starscream's indignant shout went ignored.

"Especially not one so close to the Primes."

Starscream's wings hiked up his spine. "Listen, me not knowing anything about him aside, there's something not right with him."

The two of them paused their bickering and turned to look at Starscream once more. Shockwave lowered his helm, as if he was attempting to pretend that he was working on anybody else. It would have been an amusing sight, if anything else were happening.

"He's planning something. I know he is."

Thundercracker didn't get to suppress his exhale that time. "Screamer, you think that about everybody."

"I know it!" Starscream glowered, standing up and flaring his wings to prove how serious he was. "He's all smiles and— and polite honorifics and its scrap!"

Thundercracker and Skywarp exchanged a glance, and Starscream knew them well enough to understand what it meant. They were both questioning his taste in berth-partners, though they also knew by then that he'd always had questionable tastes — hence why it remained a quiet glance and not a judging remark. It didn't matter much. They would be there to patch him back up when Sentinel inevitably broke him. There was not much that Starscream couldn't survive, after all.

"Fine," Thundercracker caved easily, much to everyone's surprise. "Let's go talk to Soundwave."

Soundwave, to his credit, didn't even react when Starscream told him their request. He sat at his desk in the main office of Iacon, shuffling through datapad upon datapad of information. The only sign that he'd even heard Starscream was the twitch of his digits — small, nearly impossible to notice for anyone that wasn't as hypervigilant as Starscream was. He paused his shuffling after a long moment and looked up at Starscream. His expression was, as always, completely concealed behind both visor and faceplate.

"Affirmative. Expect results by tomorrow."

Pleased, Starscream flicked his wings. "Keep a constant eye on him. I do not want to miss anything crucial."

Soundwave stared at him for a beat, then continued his shuffling. His chestplate clicked open and revealed Laserbeak, who must have been comfortably recharging because his wings flapped indignantly and he squawked up at Soundwave. Suddenly attentive, Soundwave spared a servo to pat his helm and settle his complaints until he was content to fly from his chest. Starscream watched the event closely, curious.

He had always had a fascination for Soundwave. Much like Shockwave, he seemed like he was both in a separate plane of existence and aware of everything that happened all the time. He was unafraid to state the truth, even where most would have cowered beneath Starscream's egotistical fury. And, despite how he tended to stay behind on the field and observe crucial information from afar — or even infiltrate known enemy bases to leech from them — he could easily hold his own in a fight. They'd been fighting together for a long time. After all, the war with the Quintessons raged on and on for many millennia, and Starscream had been sworn under the King's rule as an honorary soldier of Vos. Regardless of how it had irked him at first, he'd long since grown used to being called to the field and demanded to throw his life on the line alongside bots that he cared far too much about for his own well-being.

Soundwave's silence was a clear dismissal. Skywarp wrenched Starscream from his thoughts by clapping a servo onto his shoulder, far too close to his injured wing for his comfort. Despite the instinct to shrug that servo off and turn to yell at Skywarp, he allowed it to remain where it rested. There was a lot that his trine could get away with that anybody else would've gotten their sparks ripped out for.

"Let's go, Screamer," Skywarp chirped. "I'm so low on fuel that it hurts, and the one restaurant down the street has some sales."

Starscream rumbled, but ultimately caved. "Fine, but we're flying there."

"I expected nothing less! Race ya!"

A week passed before Starscream heard from Sentinel again. Soundwave reported to him at his daily request, informing him that Sentinel was terribly busy with work that Laserbeak couldn't reliably get close enough to learn about. It was of little surprise — after all, the Primes' palace remained heavily guarded even against their own, and it wouldn't exactly be easy to explain why a member of the High Guard was spying on them. Still, it left an itch in the back of Starscream's processor.

Vos' palace was quiet. The sun had set hours ago, and the only source of light in Starscream's room was from a lamp on his berthside table. He curled up into a tight ball beneath thin sheets and stared out the windows across the room. Fortunately, the altitude of his room was much higher than most of Vos, and the neon lights that cast the city in a blinding glow at nighttime would not disturb him much. He could keep his windows open without concern of disrupting his recharge time.

A knock at the door had him shooting out of his berth, wings flared. He stared at his door like it had personally attacked him for a moment before crossing the distance with a racing spark. It opened before he could lay his servo on it, and there stood Sentinel with a proud grin and a flick of mischief in his optics. Surprised, Starscream halted in his tracks, before scoffing his immediate irritation.

"I never should have shown you where my berth was," he remarked.

Sentinel laughed, unfazed by the sourness of his voice. "Please let me in, Prince, I don't have all night."

Starscream backed away from the door and watched as Sentinel sauntered in like he owned the place. He shut the door behind him and, after a split-second of contemplation, twisted the lock. It was very unlikely that somebody would disturb the two of them at such an hour, but it never hurt to be safe. For all he knew, Soundwave was in the hallway and actively watching their interaction. Or the King would wake and come to be an annoying menace once again.

Sentinel sat on his berth and leaned back on his servos. "Missed me?"

"As if," Starscream hissed, flicking his wings back. "Don't flatter yourself."

"Mm, you're a terrible liar. Come here."

Starscream stared at the extended servo for a moment before approaching. Anticipation tightened his chassis and sent his spark flipping through its chamber as Sentinel's dermas curled into a seductive smirk and he spread his legs just enough that Starscream could fit between them. He wanted to make a snide comment on how eager Sentinel was, but all of his words died in his voice box when Sentinel grabbed him by the waist and practically shoved him down onto his knees.

He shrieked angrily to mask how it had heat shooting straight south. "What do you think you're doing?!"

Sentinel huffed a laugh. "Putting that mouth of yours to work. I missed you, and am perfectly content to state that."

That offending servo rested on his helm, right above his neck. He pulled Starscream closer until he shuffled his knees and brushed his cheek against Sentinel's heated modesty plate. Coolant pooled in his mouth. His processor whirled. His chassis burnt, and he was pretty sure that lubricant was beginning to settle in his own plating. It was as uncomfortable as it was addictive. He decided to waste no time on half-hearted complaints and get himself to work.

He licked a smooth stripe over that plate, soaking in the warmth that radiated from it. Sentinel groaned softly in the back of his throat and, with a few clicks, it slid to the side and his spike hit Starscream's dermas. His optics slitted as he stared up at Sentinel, leaning back and digging his digits into the padding of his berth. He must have been worked up for a long time before arriving — he was practically squirming atop Starscream.

It was more attractive than anything. He wondered before he could stop himself if Sentinel had thought about him as much as he'd thought of him. The thought only made him more wild. He shut it down before it could stray further and swallowed his pride for long enough to part his dermas. Humiliation tightened its claws around his spark as he took Sentinel into his mouth, offlining his gag reflex for the time being.

Sentinel hummed, pleased yet mildly amused. "You're embarrassed and sloppy."

Starscream glowered up at him and raised his wings along his spine but didn't bother pulling back to retort. He took Sentinel deeper and deliberately ignored his continued taunts about how a prince like him surely had never given oral before, yet he was so eager to try. He was wrong, of course. Starscream did not do it often, but he had always enjoyed the thick arousal that being humiliated in such a way gave him. It muddled his processor and soothed the constant racing of his thoughts.

He pressed the tip of his glossa against the underside of Sentinel's spike, interrupting his rant for a long, low moan. Starscream offlined his optics and allowed his cooling fans to kick on full notch. If there was one thing he liked about Sentinel, it was how loud he was. That certainly didn't make up for how annoying he was the rest of the time, and it definitely didn't raise a whimper from deep in Starscream's throat.

"There you go," Sentinel breathed as Starscream made it all the way down, "there's a good seeker."

Starscream contemplated biting down then and there, but was swiftly interrupted. Sentinel's other servo shot up to clutch at his helm and forcefully hold him still. His optics abruptly onlined just in time to see how his hips bucked, thrusting himself deeper into Starscream's mouth. His digits curled into his thighs and he braced himself without much fight. Something about being used…

Sentinel lowly muttered nonsense; softly uttered mixtures of praise and degradation that curled intoxicatingly in his audials. He whimpered for more, his hips canting embarrassingly as he attempted to find a satisfying friction for himself. Growing increasingly agitated as he wound up with nothing, he let out a long, drawn out whine that was only somewhat muffled by the intrusion in his mouth.

Another amused huff escaped Sentinel, and he paused his own rhythm to selflessly nudge Starscream's knees apart and rest his pes between them. Starscream offlined his optics and accepted the offering with a resigned whimper before grinding down against the top of his boot. His modesty plate had retracted at some point during their encounter, and bare, dripping mesh deliciously rubbed against hot metal. Sentinel pressed his other servo against Starscream's helm and thrust into him rougher than before.

It didn't take long for their crest to be reached in perfect, beautiful unison. Sentinel groaned from deep in his throat, "so good" and "so beautiful like this" spilling from his strained voice box like a broken record. He overloaded with a guttural moan, spilling down Starscream's throat and in turn sending him straight over the edge. Charge zipped between them, released by their synced system crash and blinding their optics with ecstasy.

Starscream slumped against Sentinel's leg, pulling his head back only to let it lay limply on his thighs. His fans screamed and his intake heaved, drawing in cool air in a desperate attempt to soothe his overheating systems. Fog swarmed and wrapped around them, casting a soft blanket over their forms. Starscream basked in it, even as he felt a wandering servo trail down his spine and between his wings. With great effort, he shoved aside his instinct to flinch and instead spread them, welcoming the comfort with slight reluctance.

Their recovery was swift after that. Sentinel stirred after a moment and reached down to grab Starscream by the chin, tilting his head up until their optics met. Malice flickered in Sentinel's, though it was lilted and high and attractive. Starscream wriggled to get into a better position, allowing himself to be guided by that servo. He had a lot of work ahead of him, and he absently hoped that he would not be called to duty before he could fully recharge overnight.

Chapter Text

A small, exhausted little noise stirred from deep in Starscream's chassis. He shifted and raised his head from where it'd been shoved into the corner of his berth. Both wings stretched out, testing their soreness. He winced when pain shot up them and along his spine, then grunted softly when the movement made his hips even more sore. He rolled onto his back, pinning his wings beneath his form in order to stretch his legs out and attempt to ease some of the tightness there.

Beside him, somebody stirred at his movement. Starscream realized, a beat too late, that there was an arm slung over his waist. His gaze followed the limb until he was optic-to-optic with a bleary, half-recharged Sentinel. Starscream's spark spun impossibly fast and, panicked, he sat up so quickly that his gyroscopes had to take a pause to reset. He hadn't remembered falling asleep at Sentinel's side.

Sentinel had stayed.

Starscream had recharged beside Sentinel, exposing himself to any harm that he may have wanted to inflict, and came back online with nothing more than an aching pelvis and tight wings. He twitched and slitted his optics at Sentinel, who hadn't bothered to move aside from raising his helm only enough to continue staring at Starscream. He had no idea how he was supposed to feel about that. He didn't even recharge around his fellow High Guard. Only his trine could be around him in such a vulnerable moment, and yet—

There Sentinel was, calm and relaxed, completely oblivious to Starscream's inner conflict. He flicked his wings and shoved the arm around his waist off of him to scramble out of the berth. Dried liquid clung to his thighs in a repulsive crust that had his face plates curling with disgust. He peered down at himself. His modesty plate was still wide open. He rushed to fix that, embarrassment burning hot in his chassis.

Sentinel chuckled from behind him and completely ignored the glare he got as a result. "You may want to take a bath."

Starscream scoffed. "What do you think I plan on doing, genius?"

His insults only got him a pair of glimmering optics. He frowned a little tighter and turned his back to Sentinel in favour of examining his bathroom door. Would Sentinel still be there when he was finished? Did he want Sentinel to be there? Having somebody bear witness to his daily rituals, to watch him clamber around his room in the morning.. It was intimate enough to make his exoskeleton itch unpleasantly.

"What are you doing?" Starscream asked incredulously, turning back to Sentinel. "Are you going to lay there all day?"

Sentinel's optics flickered with surprise. He sat up a little hesitantly, before swiftly recovering with a teasing grin. "Why? Do you want me to join you?"

"Absolutely not," Starscream huffed to conceal the way his spark spun at the thought. "You have places to be, I'm sure."

The rejection, luckily, was not met with resistance. Sentinel merely rose to his pedes and crossed the room in a few strides. He looked a lot less like a wreck than Starscream did, so he didn't feel any pity about kicking him out so abruptly. There were hardly any marks on his exoskeleton, and he only had the faintest hint of red on his inner thigh from Starscream's paint. Nobody would be looking closely enough to notice. If they were, well.. He would come up with something.

Starscream waited until Sentinel closed the door behind him to disappear into the bathroom. His entire chassis ached, and he was looking forward to a nice bath.

Sentinel was there again when Starscream came out of the bathroom with a silvery cloth wrapped over his shoulders to catch the liquid that dripped from his helm. He sat on the edge of the berth with one leg crossed over the other and both servos behind him to support him as he leaned back. The paint transfer on his thigh had been scrubbed clean and he shined under the light creeping in from the windows. His optics were too occupied with scanning the room to notice Starscream until he stormed over, wings flared.

"What are you doing?" Starscream spat.

Sentinel's optics flickered when he looked at Starscream, hovering angrily behind him. "As prickly as ever," he hummed, "I was waiting on you. I have an offer to make."

Starscream frowned. Said offer could be, quite literally, anything, and the possibilities had his processor swimming nauseatingly. He never liked surprises, never liked not knowing something. In his youth, that had presented itself as a foolish desire to become one of the few astrobiologists that recent scientific discoveries began to stir. Up until the King had sworn his allegiance to the war, he occupied himself with his studies and swore that one day, he would become a renowned scientist.

Foolish, naive dreams.

"Well? Get on with it."

Sentinel rose to his pedes and steadily approached Starscream until he had to crane his neck to peer suspiciously at him. He slid one servo over his arm, rubbing at the material soothingly until he could hook it around his waist and yank them together. Starscream spluttered and shot his wings out to balance himself, but very pointedly did nothing to fight the movement or pull away. Their proximity had his spark dancing to an addictive tune.

"My prince," Sentinel murmured, dermas brushing against his audial. "You enamour me. I want to get to know you more, to understand who exactly has me head over heels. Would you entertain a mere assistant like me with the chance to take you out on a date tonight?"

His chassis erupted in a clash of emotion; flattered embarrassment, nervous excitement, and agitated anticipation spiralled together until he could no longer tell the difference. Flustered and stammering, Starscream clutched at Sentinel's shoulders and did his best to repress the noise of his fans kicking on full blast. Coolant pooled in his intake and he swallowed, flapping his wings once or twice to steady himself. The entire ordeal was mortifying, really.

Starscream had been warranted a mess by the simplest flattery. His processor broke over an admission of desire. Over the request to know him more personally, more intimately, than they had been before. He was always doomed to fall fast and hard, but it hardly ever had that result. Most were too timid to ask out the Prince of Vos, or too annoyed by his mannerisms to bother. Yet, here Sentinel was, tolerating his snappy tendency and his suffocating ego because he found his company worth it.

He really, truly should have declined. There was no reason to pursue a relationship with him, and there were multiple reasons not to. Suspicion still dug its ugly claws into his spark, and they had only spent two nights together. Though, there was something about having his limbs tangled with another, bodies pressed together in a heated display of pure, demented pleasure and then continuing the motions until the sun broke the horizon that weakened Starscream's resolve.

"You're an idiot," Starscream hissed, because he couldn't simply accept it without a hint of a fight. "You had better make it worth my while."

Sentinel smirked, ever so unfazed by his remarks. "Oh, it'll be that and more, my dear."

He scoffed and shoved at Sentinel's chestplate until he let go and Starscream could stumble backwards to put some distance between them. He couldn't believe what he was getting himself into. A date. With Sentinel. He could already imagine his trine's reaction. Thundercracker would sigh into his servos and ask him why he was entertaining a bot that he didn't trust in the slightest, while Skywarp would start planning to cause as much mischief as Thundercracker would let him get away with and tease Starscream for his taste in berth-mates the whole time.

"I hate you," Starscream huffed, raising his chin. "I'm only entertaining this out of pity."

"Whatever you say," Sentinel said easily, "I will pick you up when the sun hits the lowest point before setting."

With that, Sentinel was gone. Starscream watched him leave, twitching. He had a lot to prepare for. He would have to refresh his paint job and smooth out the scuffs in his exoskeleton that the night before had left. With no small amount of distress, he resorted to a desperate measure and called upon his trine via their very hyperactive communication system. They would receive his message quickly and come to his aid. All he had to do was wait.

A flash of vibrant purple blinded Starscream and he shied away with a surprised grunt, shielding his optics with a servo. Teleporting in, directly in front of him? Really? Leave Skywarp to do something like that in the midst of his own excitement. Sure enough, it was only half a second before Skywarp was clearing the room and jumping onto Starscream, gripping him by the shoulders and practically vibrating with excess energy.

"A date!" He shrieked, wings flapping excitedly. "A date! You haven't gone on one in years!"

Starscream huffed, embarrassed, and pushed Skywarp off of him. It wasn't like he was lying, but that didn't really mean anything. There was simply nobody out there that was good enough for the Prince of Vos, let alone a well-respected member of the High Guard. His own trine barely handled his overflowing ego and venomous personality, so how could he expect anyone else to? Yet, there Sentinel was, taking it with stride
.
His chassis warmed and his wings fluttered. He pointedly ignored Thundercracker's worried expression in order to sit himself on the ottoman in front of his berth. One leg crossed over the other and he leaned forwards, resting his elbows on his knee and his chin in his servo. Skywarp skittered across the room to the vanity in the corner, immediately occupying himself with sorting through his accumulation of golden jewellery to find something satisfactory. Thundercracker exhaled softly and sat down beside Starscream.

"Are you sure about this?" Thundercracker asked, staring hard at his servos. "I mean.. Sentinel?"

Starscream hesitated, weighing his options. He could lie and say that there was nothing wrong, that he trusted his own judgement and had no anxiety about the situation whatsoever. Or, he could be honest. The two of them would surely figure out the truth either way, whether it be after the date or even as he told the lie. Honesty was strategically more advantageous. Especially with his trine.

"I'm sure about it."

Thundercracker's optics thinned. "You're lying."

Well. So much for hiding the truth. Starscream tensed and looked away. Suddenly, the floor was the most interesting thing there, and he narrowed in on it like some kind of predacon.

"No, TC, I'm not sure," he bit out. "I have a lot of doubts. I don't trust him. I don't like him."

"Then why?"

"I don't know."

Thundercracker went silent for a long moment. His optics dilated and he stared into the distance without truly seeing it. His processor was working so hard that Starscream could practically see the gears turning, much to his amusement. Of course, when presented with something he didn't understand, Thundercracker would break himself in order to figure it out. Especially when it came to his trine.

Skywarp bounded across the room, returning to Starscream's side. He held a buffer in one servo and a collection of gold in the other. With a soft whoop, he disappeared only to return sitting cross-legged on the berth behind Starscream. The gold jingled as it was cast aside into a small pile, and the buffer whirred as he leaned in to examine the scratches on Starscream. He flared his wings outwards to display the more obvious ones there.

Skywarp whistled. "He sure did a number on ya, Screamer."

"He always does," remarked Starscream.

"Hold still while I clean you up. We'll get that gold on you in no time!"

Despite himself, Starscream smiled and leaned into the stabilizing touch to his opposite wing that Skywarp gave him as he began. Comfortable silence blanketed the room, and the gentle vibrations against him had him drooping. Every piston and cable in his body relaxed until he was slumped forwards. His voice box squeaked; gentle, pleased noises stirred from it that every seeker made when they were content but that Starscream suppressed more than anything.

By the time he returned to himself, groggy and halfway to recharge, he was covered head-to-pes in shining gold. Skywarp sat in front of him, straddling his lap with a small brush in one hand and a palette of paint in the other. His helm felt cool along his jawline and beneath his optics, suggesting that Skywarp had taken advantage of his slumber to pretty him up even more. His chassis warmed.

"Welcome back to Vos," Skywarp giggled, flicking the last bit of paint just beneath his lower derma. "You've been needing wing work for a while, apparently."

Starscream sniffed. "Don't brag, or I'm never letting you near my wings again."

"You will, and we both know it."

Thundercracker was staring at him. Starscream's wings fluttered self-consciously, and the stirred air brushed over worn sensors unpleasantly. He immediately stilled them with a barely audible grunt, annoyed. Getting his wings buffered always made him overstimulated, even as it relaxed him. It was as if the All-Spark itself had a personal vendetta against him at times.

"When is Sentinel coming?" Thundercracker questioned.

"Sunset."

"That gives us an hour or so to waste time. Lay on your front, Sky and I will relax you more."

He didn't even attempt to protest. Starscream knew as well as they did that he could use the closeness; the gentleness of his trine's servos on him. It had been too long since all three of them were able to relax like that together, and he needed it at that moment more than any others. A date was already nerve-wracking enough, but with Sentinel? He had to be well-prepared for anything to happen, and he needed to be relaxed in order to scheme.

Sentinel insisted that they walked together, even when Starscream complained that both of them were very capable of transforming and reaching their destination quicker. For a long moment, he truly considered transforming and leaving him behind simply out of spite, but he had no idea where they were going and Sentinel seemed insistent enough to convince him that it was important to walk. At least Sentinel had the decency to stare lustfully at the glittering accents on his face and the jewellery dangling from him. Especially the gold chain around his lower chassis, punctuating the slim curve of his waist and the stripe of shimmering paint down the middle.

They left Vos behind before long and, as the sun cast its final rays over the lush, mountainous forests that surrounded the city, Starscream had a suspicion. He kept it inside his processor. Occasionally, Sentinel initiated casual conversation — how he liked his energon, what his favourite things to read were, all in the perfect mixture of talking about himself and asking about Starscream. It had him impressed enough to remain compliant. For somebody who blundered around the palace like he owned the place, Sentinel was socially competent in ways that Starscream was not.

It was difficult to act interested in Sentinel talking about himself. He didn't necessarily not care, but he also wasn't leaping at the chance to learn everything he possibly could. Sentinel was interesting, yes. But Starscream much preferred to find things out on his own than to have it handed to him on a silver platter. He wanted to figure out Sentinel's favourite colour by observing the way he interacted with the environment, not by simply being told it.

Sentinel halted in his tracks, right in the middle of him talking about his work and how annoying some of the Primes were. Starscream paused and looked up at him, optics dilated with the sheer lack of light that far into the wilderness. The sun had set, and the moon was not full enough to brighten the area significantly enough. For a brief moment, Starscream found himself envious of the bots with built-in headlamps. Not for long, though. He would much rather stumble blindly in the dark than be unable to fly.

"We're here," Sentinel spoke in a hushed voice, tilting his helm back to gaze at the sky.

Starscream's optics flickered. He watched Sentinel sit down, crossing his legs and leaning back. The expression on his face plates could only be considered wistfulness. Had he brought them out to stargaze? Starscream's spark chamber tightened and soft, affectionate warmth blossomed in his chassis. It was such a stark contrast to the heat of anger or the burn of arousal that typically followed Sentinel's presence that he had to pause and reset his emotional processor before sitting.

The stars were bright. Each one twinkled individually. Starscream swallowed back a sudden rush of coolant. It prickled in the corners of his optics instead, threatening to spill and expose the emotions swarming him. He hadn't stargazed since his youth, long before he had been cast a soldier. Before expectations tightened their claws around him; back when he had studied the stars and planets and solar systems. When he'd sworn to himself that, one day, his own pedes would be the ones on other planets.

Starscream avoided looking at Sentinel, lest he realize how much such a simple act was breaking him.

"You're the worst," Starscream scoffed, though his wings drooped and he stared longingly at one specific constellation.

"You're not designated Starscream for nothing," Sentinel mused, "I assumed this would be a suitable first date."

Starscream struggled with his words for a long moment. His voice box crackled and died as he failed to come up with something to say. Eventually, though, he dipped his head and allowed a small 'thank you' to fall from his derma. Sentinel was right. It was by far the most perfect option that he could have gone with; certainly more personal than a mere dinner and then a post-date frag like he'd initially suspected.

"I wanted to be an astrobiologist," Starscream confessed after a beat of silence, avoiding looking at Sentinel even as he felt those optics turn to him. "The stars, the planets, the.. possibility of alien life. It drew me in like some kind of— of.. I don't know. I really wanted it, though."

"It didn't work out," Sentinel stated, not pushing or intrusive. Merely curious.

Starscream's spark spun. He laughed wryly. "No, it didn't. Some things got in the way. Mostly royal duties and stuff like that. You cannot be a prince and a scientist, apparently."

Sentinel hummed. "Well, then, allow me to indulge you, dear."

Sentinel rose to his pedes, smiling at Starscream's confusion. He reached one servo out and hauled the seeker up until their chest plates brushed against one another. Still, he didn't let go of that servo. The other one strayed until it rested on his waist, settled comfortably in the dip between his hip and his chassis. His opposable digit brushed soothing circles into the exoskeleton, and Starscream itched with disgust. It was not enough to push him away. Instead, the disgusting softness only seemed to pull him closer in ways that it never would with anyone else.

"Dance with me," Sentinel whispered, adoration widening his optics. "Beneath the stars. Let all of them above see you and me together. Let the life out there, wherever it may be, know that the mighty Prince of Vos is a yearner."

Starscream scoffed but, despite himself, leaned into the touches along his body. He wondered, with a touch of characteristic paranoia, if Sentinel knew more about him than he let on. To bring him to stargaze, then to offer to dance with him. Had he known about the in-depth dance lessons that Starscream took before the war? Was he aware about his dreams to be a scientist? Did he know that Starscream sang too? What else did he know?

He squished those concerns like an insect beneath his heel. It was meant to be a night of indulgence, not of meaningless suspicion. A smile graced his intake before he could swallow it back, and the two of them swiftly found a rhythm. Sentinel was clumsy in his movements but determined, and Starscream wound up leading with no small amount of amusement. He clearly didn't know how to dance like Starscream did. Oh well, that was something he could teach another time.

The fact that he was already planning another time and the implications of such a thought were not lost on him. He was stubborn, though, and set on ignoring everything in order to truly enjoy himself. Perhaps, as he got older, he would look back on that decision with disgust and wish that he hadn't learned to trust his instinct the hard way. But for the moment, he was perfectly content to throw himself into warm arms recklessly.

Chapter Text

For most of Starscream's long, miserable life, he had been disrespected and ridiculed and harassed, time after time. Sure, he was royalty, but he was a seeker before he was a prince. The slender flight frame and long, elegant wings that had become his pride and joy were nothing but a sign that he was incapable. In a room with Shockwave, Soundwave and him, he was the least likely to be consulted for anything important.

Unless it came to matters of the berth. Notoriously, the one thing that seekers could excel at was kneeling and taking spike. Starscream grew to appreciate the prying eyes on his sleek form and even leaned into the attention, because it was about the only positive attention he could get from anybody that was not a seeker. Groping servos on his wings and cockpit, sly comments murmured among friends as he passed, shameless advances even when he was with his own.

It grew exhausting after a time, even as he preened under the attention. It was only fun when he was in control, when he was the one to saunter his way into a lap and brush his derma against loose jaws and exploratory digits. He only enjoyed the game when it was under his rules, and there were many that couldn't follow simplicity if their sparks were on the line. Sentinel, though?

Sentinel called him gorgeous whilst looking at his face instead of his wings. He brushed his digits along his wings only when he flexed them, and he never seemed to think Starscream incapable of intelligence. Most of the time, he even encouraged it; he asked about the stars, debated the existence of alien life, wondered about what he would do if he could escape the cage that seekers like him were trapped in.

The last question was asked while they were outside of the palace, climbing through a forest of red and purple evergreens. Sentinel was a pace behind him. His larger form had to fight through the lush ferns, where Starscream had an easier time weaving around them. Starscream's wings flicked backwards and he tried to ignore how the question ached at his spark.

"I don't know," he lied through his denta, sullen and quiet. "There's no point in entertaining hypotheticals, is there? It's not like I can escape it."

Sentinel's engines whirred, a tell-tale sign of agitation. Yet, that anger was not directed at Starscream, and he knew it well. The first time Sentinel had witnessed a servo reach for his wings, while they were on a date nonetheless, he had turned and punched the perpetrator so hard that their facial plates had caved beneath his digits. He snarled something about Starscream belonging to him, which really shouldn't have made his spark warm as much as it did. They panicked and spat out something about how they didn't know 'the seeker was claimed', and scurried off like their spark had depended on it.

Considering the fury that had Sentinel's optics glowing bright, it was very possible that was the case. That fury showed itself once more on their walk, rumbling deep in his chassis and making Starscream's audials strain to track it. He didn't want Sentinel too worked up, lest they get sidetracked and wind up fragging out in the wilderness. He would definitely complain about the dirt, but there was no doing anything to stop them once they got into the mood.

"If you could," Sentinel repeated himself, firmer that time. "There's no harm in entertaining it, either."

Starscream sighed. "I guess I would be a scientist, like I told you I had always wanted to be. Perhaps the best in my field, somebody that was admired for their achievements in research and nothing else."

Sentinel hummed, and his engines quieted. "And if I told you that I could grant you that wish?"

Starscream turned his helm just enough to peer at Sentinel and slowed his pace. "Then you would be a fool."

Thundercracker and Skywarp had begged Starscream to meet Sentinel officially for so many hours at a time the past couple of weeks that he didn't truly have a choice. He sat between them on his berth, buried beneath their wings and the sheets as he waited for Sentinel to arrive. Skywarp was chattering excitedly about something — some kind of advancement Shockwave had granted his warp systems, given the amount of time the two had spent together for the past week — but Starscream paid it no mind.

He wriggled until he could lay his helm on Thundercracker's cockpit. His wings folded against his spine and he partially shuttered his optics until all he could see was a soft blue blur. Thundercracker raised his servo to rest on Starscream's shoulder, and he didn't shrug it off even as the temptation lay beneath his exoskeleton. He wasn't sure what to think about Sentinel meeting his trine.

It made things more official than they had been before, as if their multitude of dates hadn't made them a couple already. Sentinel had been excited when he was told, so clearly it was only him with the problem. Then again, Sentinel wasn't a seeker. Did he realize the weight of what the day would hold? Did he understand that his trine's disapproval could cost them everything that had built up thus far? Was that something that he was okay with?

A knock on the door stirred him from the path of doom that his thoughts were taking. With a soft vhoomp, Skywarp teleported out of the berth and swung open the door with a wide grin. Starscream stayed put, though he raised his helm only enough to watch their interaction. Thundercracker's servo tightened slightly on his shoulder, and his wings raised from their relaxed position. That wasn't good.

Skywarp didn't notice. He was too busy admiring Sentinel with a gleam in his optics. "So, you're the one that's had Screamer worked up these past few months."

Sentinel made a vaguely amused noise. "Is that so?" He peered playfully at Starscream, who slitted his optics defiantly. "I've heard nothing of the sort."

"Oh, you've been driving him crazy. I've never seen him willingly spend that much time with anybody that's not me and TC."

Sentinel noticed Thundercracker then, and stepped into the room with the same elegance that had first drawn Starscream to him. Sunlight hit his frame, and Starscream realized that he had very recently polished his paint into a shine. The golden accents were brighter and more stunning than they usually were. Starscream's vents shuttered and he swallowed back the urge to dive across the room and beg for Sentinel to frag him without shame.

"You must be Thundercracker, I presume," Sentinel greeted, "It's good to finally meet you."

Thundercracker was quiet for a moment, before nodding. "You as well."

Starscream took the chance to pry himself from the worriedly tense servos. He sat up and made his way off of the berth, until he could walk up to Sentinel. He puffed out his chestplate and tilted his wings upwards, drowning his anxiety with pride. Skywarp seemed to like him immediately, and Thundercracker was cautious with everybody in similar ways to Starscream. It didn't necessarily mean failure.

Besides, Starscream still had his own suspicions. Sentinel reeked of danger every second that they spent together, even after all of that time. From the corner of his vision, Starscream spotted a shape concealed by shadow in the hall that could only belong to Ravage. His spark whirled. Soundwave still had a watchful, protective optic on him. Even though there had been no suspicious activity to report.

The gesture should have annoyed him. He was perfectly capable of protecting himself against a threat, and there was no need to watch Sentinel when he wasn't alone. Yet, he saved a reminder to thank Soundwave for it later.

"Starscream," Sentinel's voice warmed, "have you been well?"

Starscream sniffed. "Well enough, waiting for you to finally arrive."

"I was perfectly on time, dear," Sentinel argued, though no real anger laced his voice.

Starscream rolled his optics and grabbed Sentinel by the wrist. He dragged him over to the berth at the same time as Skywarp appeared in it, curled up against Thundercracker's side where Starscream had previously been. He didn't join them on the berth. Instead, he sat Sentinel and himself on the ottoman that had been pushed back enough to double as a chair. His wings twitched when he let go of Sentinel's servo.

Sentinel didn't allow them to sit in silence for long. "I must admit, there is a lot to learn about seekers and not a lot of reliable information out there. What, exactly, is the nature of a trine?"

Thundercracker, ever-pleased to share knowledge, was more than happy to pipe up. Starscream's anxiety dissipated by the second. There was nothing to worry about; his trine and Sentinel would get along just fine.

"You must teach me to dance like that sometime."

Sentinel stood at Starscream's side, attentive and curious, and Starscream's spark spun dizzyingly in its chamber. He used every ounce of power in his processor to keep his expression neutral and his chin high, even as he longed to disappear from the festival and return to his berth with Sentinel in tow. The sun was beginning to set, casting its last sign of light over the crowd, so it was not like many people would notice the prince vanish with a Prime Assistant.

Still, there was more that he had to show Sentinel. The crowd swam around them, singing in tune with the Vosian melodies wafting through the air. Dancers mingled in pairs; glittery, vibrant paint in reds and blues and everything in-between had been deliberately designed to catch the optics of any observers during the festival. They moved fluidly, as if their bodies were made of liquid and not metal. Starscream knew the dances they were reciting well — he had taken it upon himself to memorize everything that the King wanted to erase, to become a walking archive for Vosian culture.

That included the dance, outside of it being a personal pleasure for him. Legends and myths reenacted in song and dance; words articulately strung together to lead the rhythm of movement — it all entranced him, and clearly Sentinel as well. He had not allowed his gaze to stray from the stage for a heartbeat. One of Starscream's personal favourite legends was of a young seeker soaring through outer space to prove to his friends that seekers could go beyond touching the sky.

They got caught in the atmosphere of an alien planet and crash-landed, only to be discovered by the planet's lifeforms. Highly intelligent, bipedal beings with no exoskeleton to protect them and weapons made of organic matter chased them away out of fear, screaming in a harsh tongue at one another. They were forced into a cave, where a family of furry creatures took them in and kept them warm until their systems self-repaired and they could return home. The story had not been believed by their friends, but Starscream knew well enough that every legend was laced with truth.

Somewhere out there, there was a planet inhabited by strange creatures made up of carbon instead of the silicon that made up Cybertronians. Perhaps he would be the one to discover them. Or, perhaps, nobody would. After all, the species very well could have died out by the time that they were able to begin exploring the galaxy. Yet, as he observed a dancer swing around a loosely made brown spear, he knew that there was no possible way for him to be the one. He was a seeker, a prince. Not a scientist.

"I'll think about it," Starscream said finally, "That flexibility would be difficult for a frame like yours to achieve."

Sentinel laughed, of all things. "Colour me determined now."

And, as the last rays of light faded and crowds of seekers took to the skies, Starscream walked Sentinel back to his palace and planned a day to set aside for their dance lessons.

Starscream moaned, high and whiny, and writhed beneath Sentinel. His legs wrapped tightly around Sentinel's waist, and his hips canted into every harsh thrust. Sentinel gripped one wing between his digits for leverage, crunching the metal beneath him. The cry that fell from his intake, pitiful and pathetic and pleased, only spurred him on. His denta ripped at vulnerable neck cables, spilling energon over them in little dribbles.

"Sentinel—" Starscream sobbed, optics shuttering. "You terrible fool- What if someone sees the damage before I can repair it?!"

Sentinel huffed, amused, and bit a little harder. "Then you tell them that somebody made you feel good."

Starscream shoved at his shoulder, whimpering like a wounded predacon. "You're an idiot. I can't tell anyone I'm sleeping with a Prime Assistant."

Sentinel froze. Every movement halted, and Starscream shoved a little harder in irritation. The sudden lack of sensation combined with the dull look in Sentinel's optics when he pulled his helm back, and uneasiness stirred just beneath Starscream's exoskeleton. His wings twitched. He bared his denta defensively and bucked his hips in an attempt to urge Sentinel into moving again.

"What is your problem?" Starscream groaned.

"You called me a Prime," Sentinel breathed, dazed and a little out of it.

"Are you insane? A Prime Assistant. An assistant of the Primes. Which you are. Have you never been called that before? I feel like it’s a relatively common simplified title, which-"

Whatever he was about to say died in his voice box when Sentinel finally moved, thrusting deeper and rougher than he had before. A moan wrenched itself from Starscream, surprised and a little annoyed still. He let it slide, even as he longed to continue mocking Sentinel for such a strange mistake.

Quietly, to himself, he wondered if he would look back at that moment in the future and realize that there was some terrible secret that he should have known then and there.

It had been nearly a week since he'd last seen Sentinel. Starscream sat in the centre of a camp in the middle of nowhere, wings high on his back and legs crossed. Across from him sat Soundwave, playing a soothing melody quietly from the speakers in his chest plate. He said nothing, as he often did, perfectly content to let the music speak for him. At his side curled Ravage, engines rumbling in a pleased purr as he recharged.

They knew better than to start a fire for warmth, lest the enemy spot their camp. It had him shivering, and his exoskeleton pressed tightly together in an attempt to trap heat. Starscream's smaller frame was more susceptible to the cold. He could have retreated into the tents they'd set up and joined the trine pile for warmth, but there was something about the moments late at night when he and Soundwave could settle down together.

The Primes had sent them out on a mission to scour Kaon's outskirts for a rumoured enemy encampment. So far, he and his trine had scoured the skies, while Slipstream's took to the ground. Soundwave stayed behind to manage radio waves in an attempt to catch any possible communications, and all three forces had remained unsuccessful. Missions like the one they were on hardly went quickly, though, and it had taken the majority of the week to even reach Kaon from Vos.

Kaon was a barren, sad city, rich with classism that made Starscream sick to his fuel tanks. It had initially been built when miner bots ran through it, but years of infighting and greed marked its downfall. It made sense that the Quintessons would target the weak link of Cybertron — even though there may have been smaller settlements more likely to slip past the Primes' attention in all of the chaos. Still, Starscream did not enjoy being so far from home.

If he had been out exploring instead of scouting for a battle, he may have enjoyed it significantly more. Seekers made good scouts, though, as the King of Vos and the Primes had discovered together. As such, he was commonly called for missions to locate — and, occasionally, destroy — any enemies in an area. And, as much as he complained, it did make his processor whirl with excitement to have such a task.

Then, perhaps, the issue was with his distance from Sentinel. They spent a lot of time apart when Sentinel was working, but.. It was different to be the one away than it was to be the one waiting. He also wasn't quite sure how to explain his absence without announcing that he was a High Guard member. Very few of the Guard were actually secretive, but the Primes had wanted to keep the advantage they held with Vos on their side a secret. He had the sneaking suspicion that it would add unexpected complexities to his relationship with Sentinel.

Soundwave cleared his intake to catch Starscream's attention, and spoke when he looked up. "Starscream: in need of recharge. It is late."

Starscream's wings twitched, but he complied. He nodded his farewell as he rose, and clambered into the tent he shared with his trine. Thundercracker and Skywarp were tangled together, intakes closed tightly and exoskeletons equally as tight in order to preserve heat. He rumbled his engine as he wriggled between them forcibly and ignored the soft, whining protest that came from Skywarp's recharging form.

Staring at the ceiling and overworking his processor instead of actually resting would surely keep them warm enough for a while. It was a noble sacrifice, that was all. He could certainly turn off his racing thoughts and recharge if he wanted to be selfish, and he totally was capable of offlining his optics and quieting his humming engine.

"The High Guard have returned from their mission successfully," announced Zeta Prime with glimmering optics. "Yet another Quintesson camp falls, and it is all thanks to the efforts of Vos and its seekers."

Starscream stood in between his trine at the head of countless other seeker trines. His wings pressed tightly to his spine, and he pointedly avoided looking into the crowd before them. Sentinel was surely somewhere in there, confused and shocked and possibly even betrayed. He had protested against such a public announcement, but Zeta insisted that their success was worth celebrating after many years of it.

He, at the very least, wanted the chance to tell Sentinel himself. Luck was never on his side.

Skywarp, sensing his distress, reached out and entwined their servos together. At his other side, Thundercracker did the same, and they squeezed at the thin material reassuringly. He fluttered his wings, a silent but grateful thanks, and stared harder at the pearly floor. Iacon was much too void of colour for his taste, all whites and silvers and occasionally golds.

His attempt to study the colouring of the floor instead of focusing on the audience failed miserably. There was a beat of silence, then cheering erupted all throughout the room. Cameras flashed and clicked, excited reports jumped on the chance to demand answers, and somebody shouted something about how terrible it was that another nation had been wrapped up into war. Whether or not Starscream agreed with that voice was not a thought that he entertained, nor was it one that anybody did.

"Lift your chin," Thundercracker murmured into his audial, worry seeping from his tone. "Look confident."

Starscream wanted to turn and snap at him, but he knew it was merely an act of reassurance. He raised his gaze and set his jaw as he stared out at the crowd. His wings raised with much effort. He pushed back the terrible storm of emotion in his chassis and focused his efforts on looking like he always did. Proud, strong, superior. Thundercracker was right in correcting him. He needed to present a dignified front.

Zeta raised one servo, gazing out at the audience until it settled down. He cleared his intake and continued fluidly, as if the interruption never happened. "I will grant three questions."

Immediately, the reports began stumbling over one another to ask their questions. It wasn't until somebody roared for silence that it was granted, albeit with annoyed reluctance. The somebody stood towards the back of the crowd, holding the bulkiest camera that Starscream had ever seen over his shoulder. His optics squinted at the seekers, rich with judgement that sent a trickle of dread down Starscream's spine.

"Are we sure it's wise to trust seekers to the future of our planet?" The bot asked, tone venomous despite the otherwise calm way he held himself. "They, ah, aren't trained soldiers or anything."

Zeta was quiet for a long moment, as if he wasn't expecting such a question. Fool. When it came to Vos, there was no line that the public wouldn't cross in order to further their beliefs. Especially in Iacon, ever content to sit back in their lavish homes and pretend that society was perfect; completely oblivious to the seekers getting tormented under their pedes.

It wasn't Zeta that came to his aid. Starscream's spark froze in his chamber and his fuel lines ran cold as he heard Sentinel's signature scoff, furious and rigid. He looked for the source and warmth washed over him in waves when he spotted it. Sentinel stood at the edge of the crowd, scowling. His servos clenched into tight fists and his optics glowed with anger that rattled Starscream's frame.

"Did you not hear a word he said?" Sentinel yelled over the crowd, optics flashing. "It is thanks to Vos that we won such an advantage. It is thanks to the seekers that more of Kaon is not dead."

Satisfied, Starscream settled his wings into position and smirked at nothing in particular. Sentinel was in for one wonderful night, if he kept arguing like that.

Chapter Text

"So," Sentinel leaned against the furthest wall from Starscream's berth, arms crossed over his chestplate. "All of this time, hm? When did you plan on telling me?"

Starscream's wings twitched anxiously, turned downwards in an uncharacteristic display of submission. He wanted to fly away and never look back. He wanted to shoot down the Quintessons and everybody else who dared to pose a threat to him. It was in moments like the current, when he was being scolded, that he felt small and helpless and it was disgusting.

"When the time was right," Starscream grumbled, avoiding Sentinel's gaze. "It was meant to be hidden before Zeta went and ruined that."

Sentinel hummed. He was quiet, up until Starscream finally looked up at him and then whatever expression he'd held was replaced by a smooth, easy-going grin. He almost looked satisfied. Starscream itched just beneath his exoskeleton. He shifted his weight until he could comfortably sit on his berth with his legs crossed, and tried not to think about what that could possibly mean for him.

"The High Guard," Sentinel's optics glimmered. "I truly have met my match."

Starscream huffed. Pride swam in his chassis, enticingly wrapping itself around the anxiety still brewing. "It took you this long to realize?"

"Mm, I had my suspicions before."

It was then that Sentinel pried himself from the wall and sauntered across the room. Each step had his heel struts clicking on the floor, and Starscream shamelessly watched every moment of it. He paused at the edge of the berth, only to reach one servo out and clutch Starscream firmly by the chin. When he leaned down and brushed their dermas together in a teasing mimicry of a kiss, Starscream's fans kicked on a notch.

Every ounce of his anxiety began to fade with every movement Sentinel made to be closer. He gently pushed Starscream down with his free servo on the centre of his chestplate, and fluidly crawled over him until he could straddle slender hips. Intake parted and optics blown, Starscream sat back and watched with no reluctance whatsoever. There was nothing to worry about, and he was a fool for believing that there was.

Sentinel chuckled lowly, grazing the edge of Starscream's audial with sharp denta. He whimpered softly in turn and rolled his helm to the side, baring his neck. It was a wordless invite, but a desperate one; and it was one that Sentinel wouldn't dream of casting aside. He let go of Starscream's chin to hold himself up as he trailed slow, firm kisses down a cable.

"My pretty seeker," Sentinel murmured, smiling against the soft whines that spilled from Starscream. "Pretty, deadly little thing. Venomous. Like a viper."

Starscream scoffed. The words played at his spark like a violin, though, and he preened despite himself. Arousal began to show itself, burning deep in his chassis until coolant pooled in his intake and his fans whirred even louder. He arched himself up just enough to rub his interface panel against Sentinel's, taking no small pride in the shared heat. He must have been leaking already.

"Keep talking to me like that," Starscream rumbled, optics flickering. "Tell me who's superior."

Sentinel huffed a laugh. "Whatever helps you recharge at night, my dear."

Starscream considered hitting him over the helm for the attitude he was holding, but ultimately allowed it. He enjoyed the soft, open-mouthed kisses that he was receiving, and the way Sentinel ground his hips down to meet him certainly made up for the snark. He exhaled and shifted to splay his wings behind him, casting a halo of red and white above his helm. The sight sent Sentinel's fans whining, and he suppressed a triumphant smirk with a little whimper instead.

A sudden bang at the door sent both of them shooting up. Sentinel leapt to his pedes and Starscream followed suit, wings flaring outwards. It took a moment for him to realize that the source of the noise had been somebody knocking, and the force behind it meant only one thing. Dread settled deep in his chassis and he barely restrained a sigh. Sentinel was in for one pit of a show, that was for sure.

"Come in," he called after a beat.

The door clicked open and there stood the King. His optics creased with worry and he frowned heavily. Starscream's dread only increased. There was no way that they were about to have a pleasant conversation, though he wasn't quite sure why he still hoped for that. They hadn't had a pleasant conversation since he'd outgrown his youth and began seeing the world for what it really was.

The King didn't acknowledge Sentinel, who inched closer to Starscream in the hopes that his company would provide some small relief. It didn't. Starscream stared hard at the King, challenging as he was irritated and anxious.

"I come bearing news," he announced, sounding much less upset than he looked. "You have been dismissed from the High Guard, along with your trine."

Silence.

Starscream stared harder, as if he could make the King backtrack and explain that he was playing some kind of twisted prank. Somewhere deep in his spark, though, he knew that it wasn't a joke, and he knew why it was happening. Seekers, on the High Guard? There was no way that didn't stir up more controversy than the cowardly King could handle. His trip home had resulted in barely-whispered comments, even within the walls of Vos.

That didn't mean that he had to accept it, though. Glory had been his for a moment, and he did not want to let it slip from his servos that easily. He took a menacing, slow step towards the King and raised his wings until it was clear even to Sentinel that a fight was going to break out. After all of the time that he'd spent, sacrificing his and his trine's life for some war that he hadn't even wanted to be part of? It was cruel to expect him to allow his credit to be for nothing.

"Why," he snarled, barely a question with how much venom dripped from his words.

The King met his gaze evenly. "The Primes' orders. Iacon has broken out in controversy, and it would ease many's sparks to simply dismiss you."

Starscream's optics flashed. He barely kept himself from lunging across the room and spilling energon between his talons. The Primes, while they were also a problem, would not have denied such a valuable resource simply because the majority disagreed with it. The King was lying, straight from between his denta. It was sickening. It was infuriating.

"No," Starscream laughed bitterly, "you don't get to do this. First you send me off, ask me to risk my life for them when Vos has always remained a neutral nation! And now, now, the moment that I could finally receive something in return, you want to take it away from me?"

The King said nothing. Starscream was about to keep talking when he suddenly shook his helm and backed out of the room. "There is no further discussion about this. It's an order. I will give you time to adjust, and then you will pass it onto your trine."

The door slammed behind him. Starscream stood stiffly, glaring at the spot that he'd stood with heaving vents and a lust for violence gripping at his spark. His fans whirred as fury threatened to overheat his systems; coolant dribbled from his optics and smeared his facial plates in a sickening green. His servos clenched and unclenched repeatedly, and then he collapsed to his knees with a wail.

He buried his face in his servos. His vents shuttered and clicked, struggling to do their job properly with the sudden flood of emotion.

Starscream had forgotten Sentinel stood behind him, until he heard him sit down and felt gentle servos on his shoulders. He limply allowed himself to be pulled back into the offered hug, even though the arms around him felt suffocating and claustrophobic. Briefly, he squirmed to readjust and get more comfortable. He shoved his face into the crook of Sentinel's neck, burying his emotions in warm cables and the scent of concern.

Sentinel's digits trailed along his spine, rubbing reassuring stripes into his sensor net. He exhaled softly and offlined his optics. Some of the terrible fury slipped away from him underneath the expert touch of his partner, and he wondered how he'd gone from a pleasant frag to a trusted companion. At least he hadn't lost Sentinel as well as his spot in the High Guard.

"Starscream," Sentinel murmured, once Starscream began to calm down, "I have an idea."

Wryly, Starscream chuckled. "What could that possibly be?"

"There is one way to ensure you do not lose this."

Curious, Starscream lifted his helm and met Sentinel's gaze. The look in his optics was dangerously cruel, excitement gleaming just behind the concern that he'd shifted his facial plates to represent. It should have worried Starscream, perhaps even scared him. Instead, it soothed him. Of course he was scheming. He always was.

"Go on."

Sentinel leaned in to whisper into his audial for the umpteenth time, "King Starscream sounds rather pleasant, don't you think?"

Oh.

A shudder rippled down Starscream's spine, venomous and ambitious. He had always thought that, but it was different hearing it from Sentinel. It was different hearing it when so much built-up anger and hurt at the King, a bot who was meant to aid Starscream through his youth and build him up into something better than himself, muddled his systems. He wanted to be the king. He wanted to rip the crown of Vos straight from those wretched, nasty servos.

"It does," Starscream breathed, optics shuttered. "It truly does."

"Snuff his spark," Sentinel hummed, trailing a digit under Starscream's chin and lifting his helm. "I will do the planning, so you must get the energon on your servos. Then glory will be yours, as it rightfully should be."

Starscream trembled and clutched at Sentinel's shoulders. He should have fought harder, should have had Sentinel exiled for scheming against the King. But poison had long since settled in his fuel lines, and he knew for a fact that there was no going back. There was no changing what he was anymore. Years upon years of suppression, of violence and anything and everything between, had finally changed him.

He said nothing, but the look in his optics was enough. He closed the distance between them and smashed their dermas together in a passionate, heated kiss. Sentinel laughed against his intake and rested his servos on the dip of his hips. They ground together for a beat. Their interface panels still hadn't quite let go of their previous charge, and now their emotions made everything more intense.

As they fell back against the berth in perfect unison, Starscream swore to himself that he would never again be lower than anybody else. He would hold the future of the world in his servos, and he would treat it well.

The King invited him to a dinner, one that Starscream knew Sentinel had suggested. So far, everything had gone to plan. Sentinel had helped him set up the palace's dining room to be as neglected as possible, lying straight to the faces of multiple workers that it was crucial they stay away for the privacy of the royals. There was no need for them to hear Starscream make up with his King, after all. Besides, they knew from experience how that tended to go.

With the promise of nobody around to hear or see something that they shouldn't, Starscream felt infinitely more confident in his plan. He sat at the table, cubes of energon already laid out before him. All he needed was for the King to cross the threshold into the room, oblivious to his fate. He expected to feel anxious or perhaps even sad, but the only thing he felt was a cold determination that settled in his chassis like a rock.

He had killed before, plenty of times, in the heat of battle. Yet, surely that was different? A blatant assassination attempt, carefully planned so that he could usurp the throne. It was done in cold energon with nothing more than ambition and betrayal backing it. The fact that he held no remorse or even a slight amount of fear was more intimidating than the situation itself.

Finally, the double doors opened and the King stepped through. He'd attached a cape to his shoulders, and it flowed with every step he took. Disgusting. Starscream struggled to keep his expression neutral. He was not built for stealth or secrecy, though, and it was very difficult to manage. Sentinel's voice echoed in his memory files, urgency lacing it as he explained that Starscream must pretend that nothing was wrong.

"Have I kept you waiting?" The King questioned, with no real worry.

Starscream shook his helm. "Not at all. Sit, I already retrieved the energon for us."

The King smiled and sat across the table from him, reminiscent of the day that Starscream had met Sentinel. Unlike that day, however, there was no humiliation that burnt at his spark. Only vicious vengeance.

With a cube of energon in one servo, the King sighed and leaned back in his chair. "Starscream, I would like to apologize."

His optics slitted. "Go on."

"It is for the best, you know. Vos will never compare to Iacon, and our best bet is to keep our helms down and our wings tight and to hope that nothing comes of it. You are young, my child, and you have not seen the same things that I have."

Starscream's exoskeleton prickled. He downed part of his cube to conceal it.

"The bot that carried you for me," the King's tone was suddenly sadder than he'd ever heard it before, "she, ah.. She was a lot like you. She died much too young for you to remember her, but she believed that seekers should always be proud of our ways and never succumb to their rules. That was what snuffed her spark in the end."

"That is why I think it best to go down the path that I am setting for Vos," he continued, "to avoid watching you go through what she did."

That was the final straw.

Starscream shot up to his pedes and flared his wings. He crossed the distance between them swiftly. With a series of swift clicks, his servo transformed until he could press the barrel of a charged gun to the King's chestplate. His optics slitted as the King froze in his spot, intake parted and terror widening his optics. They flickered, and cold satisfaction ran down Starscream's spine at the sight. He deserved to be afraid. He deserved to die, after everything.
"They are the enemy, and you flee like a coward in front of them," Starscream hissed. "You give them everything they want and tell yourself that it's saving us, all while you turn a blind optic to misery. It's sickening hypocrisy. I am tired of living under the rule of someone like you."

The King stammered and raised his servos. His wings dipped, a sign of submission that he'd wrenched from Starscream many times before. Starscream shuddered with glee and shoved the barrel of his gun closer.

"I will rule Vos better than you ever could have," Starscream sneered. "Do you have any last words, Your Majesty?"

He didn't wait. Starscream's body flinched with the recoil of the shot that released, right as the King parted his dermas to speak. The sound of the gunshot rang through his audials and he watched as that terrible spark finally ceased to spin. The King's optics, wide and panicked in his last moments, died into a muted grey as all of the blue left them. It was as satisfying as it was spine-chilling.

Starscream's vents heaved once more. He swallowed back any regrets that threatened to arise; things like 'surely there was another option' and 'what if someone finds out' died the moment that they made themselves known. Sentinel had planned everything perfectly for him. All he had to do was make the shot, and he'd done it flawlessly. There was nothing for him to worry about. There was no other option.

He collapsed back into his chair, every cable in his body loose. His fuel tanks lurched. He grabbed another cube of energon with shaky servos and lifted it to his intake. Not once did he look away from the body in front of him, even as the doors swung open and Sentinel came running in with medics at his side. He ignored Sentinel shaking his shoulders and asking — no, demanding — if he was okay. The fear was fake. He knew. He was simply pretending.

Perhaps the skill at which he acted should have concerned Starscream, but there wasn't much that concerned him anymore.

"It is with great tragedy that we must announce the passing of the previous king," said some nameless assistant that Starscream scarcely recognized from his youth.

He stood at the entrance of the palace on a stage that had been propped up in a rush. After all, rumours of an assassination attempt that Starscream had witnessed and been unable to stop lacing through the palace meant that he couldn't exactly have a proper coronation. It was no matter. He could barely see straight enough to recognize half of the audience.

At his side, Skywarp and Thundercracker stood silently. Both of them had arrived the second they heard the news and smothered Starscream in suffocating amounts of worry. He didn't remember any of it. It all passed in a blur, just as the coronation was. Sooner or later, his trine would find out what he had done, but he knew them well enough to know that it wouldn't change a thing. All of them had too much energon on their servos for it to matter.

"But, a new rule will lead this nation into sure victory," the assistant continued, raising the crown between his gloved servos. "It is here that we anoint Starscream from prince to king. Welcome, King Starscream!"

The cries echoed through the crowd until Starscream's processor pounded. He should have been happier, he distantly realized. He'd waited a long time for that, but he couldn't muster up anything other than a distant sense of satisfaction. There was no true happiness that graced him as he forced his face into a smile and walked forwards to accept the crown. His cape blew in a warm breeze behind him, accentuating every step.

The assistant had to lean down to plant the crown on his helm. He normally would have felt annoyed and humiliated about his height, but not even that was something his processor could conjure. Was he broken? Had the world finally taken him down with it?

"Thank you, thank you," Starscream bowed deeply, silencing the cries. "I accept this position with no small amount of grief for our fallen leader. But I promise you all, my nation of Vos, my seekers, that I will lead all of you to glory."

During his speech, he met the gaze of Sentinel from the back of the crowd. Only then did his spark warm at the sight of pride in those deep blue optics.

Yes, it was all for the better. He and his trine would succeed where the King failed, and Sentinel would be there for all of it.

Chapter Text

It had been a long time since Starscream had felt so miserable, but the last day had certainly done it for him. His voice box still crackled whenever he attempted to activate it, and the imprint that D-16's servo had left in his throat was nothing more than a miserable reminder of how severely he failed. The cuffs around his wrists hummed with energy, and his knees hadn't been so sore in a long time. He hung his helm and tried not to look at Sentinel, pacing across the room in front of him.

He was alone, for the moment. Sentinel had requested a private meeting with Starscream, and of course it was granted to him. The saviour of Cybertron. It left a bitter taste in his intake. He wanted to rip Sentinel's spark out with his bare servos. He wanted to tear him limb from limb and splay his broken body for all of Iacon to see. So much had changed since their first meeting. He deserved death. He deserved worse than death.

Finally, Sentinel came to a stop. He looked down at Starscream, his wings flaring slightly — those wings, a body modification that he had given to himself— fake as the rest of him, a poor, artificial replica of Vos' pride. It was sickening. Starscream glowered and straightened his spine, refusing to show any sign of submission. If Sentinel killed him for it, then.. Well, at least he would no longer be alive to suffer.

"Skywarp and Thundercracker are in the medbay," Sentinel said, a strange sort of sentiment flowing from his voice.

Starscream froze. He stiffened, wings fluttering. He had thought that his trine made it out of captivity. Death would be a better alternative than being held captive by Sentinel, even if the thought of permanently losing them was more than he could bear in the moment. He had seen those explosions, had watched what was left of the High Guard attempt to flee from their fates.

"Why should I believe you?" Starscream snarled, baring his denta. "You lie about everything else."

Sentinel sighed; a long, miserable noise. He crossed the distance between them until he could cup Starscream's cheek in a silver servo. He should have pulled back, should have spat at the servo and flailed around until Sentinel got the message and stopped touching him. He should have protested more, but he found himself unable to pry himself away. His spark twisted painfully in its chamber.

"I know what they mean to you," Sentinel said, quietly, optics blown wide with something that wasn't quite guilt. "I would never lie to you about that."

Starscream scoffed. "As if."

"Starscream, all I ever wanted to do was give you the world."

"You are no different than the Primes! No different than the old King!" Starscream was being a fool. He continued regardless. "You lie, you oppress, you convince the bots that there's no outcome for them aside from what you want it to be! You dress yourself up like a noble seeker in my name, but tarnish it with lies!"

Hurt glimmered in Sentinel's optics. He averted his gaze and dipped his wings, as if it would somehow lessen Starscream's anger. He flailed in his binds and flapped his wings. The cuffs held amidst his desperate attempts. He contemplated ripping himself apart in order to be free. He didn't entertain that thought process for long. That would only result in a worse situation.

"A necessary sacrifice to save us from war," Sentinel murmured. "I don't expect you to understand."

"Oh, I understand. You're a power-hungry coward who would do anything for a seat on the throne."

Sentinel's optics flashed. Half-expecting to get hit — or worse — Starscream flinched away, but no pain came. Instead, Sentinel leaned into his space and—

Their dermas connected. Starscream gasped, surprised, but— Oh, no. He couldn't bring himself to pull back, even as agony gripped his chassis and dug its thorns into his spark. Coolant pooled in his optics, threatening to spill in a messy display of his anguish. He leaned into the kiss, desperate and wounded and terrible. His servos clenched behind his back and his vents heaved.

Sentinel didn't pull back for a long while. He settled instead. One servo trailed over Starscream's hips, rubbing polished digits along worn seams. Starscream shuddered miserably and turned his optics offline. If they were heading down that familiar path of self-destruction, he didn't want to witness it with his vision. Still, he leaned into the gentle touches and tried his best to pretend that he didn't miss it.

"After all this time," Sentinel breathed against his dermas, "you are still so eager."

"I hate you," hissed Starscream in return.

Some of the coolant dribbled down his cheeks, leaving a burning cold path in its wake. He paid it no mind. Sentinel's servo traced the joint of his hip until it could run along his interface panel. Part of him wanted to kick Sentinel away and scream at him until his voice box broke once more. The other part of him, the one that wanted him more than anything, won over. He shifted enough to part his legs and clicked his panel away swiftly.

Sentinel chuckled. He glowered. Neither of them said anything in favour of meeting in another kiss, one that was more biting and clawing than anything soft. Starscream whimpered softly, a mixture of grief and pleasure spilling from his intake. He arched into Sentinel's servo as those treacherous digits dipped into his valve, catching lubricant that only just began leaking on the tips. Starscream's wings flared.

"Hurry up."

"Patience, my dear," Sentinel hummed, amused.

He grunted but fell quiet, focusing his processor on the feeling of Sentinel's digit slipping into his valve properly and not the fact that it was Sentinel. Absently, he ground his hips against the touch. It had been so long since he had another bot touch him like that. In the depths of the night, sometimes he would cave to desperation and bury his own servo between his legs, but it never felt the same. He missed it.

Oh, he missed Sentinel so much. Starscream whined and ground a little harder, a little more desperately. It was a terrible, terrible idea, and there was no way out of it that would not result in immense death. But if he was going to be executed anyway, why not go out with a bang?

Another digit pressed in. Heat shot straight up his spine and he moaned. His helm fell back, intake agape. Fans whirred and vents hissed. His digits could never quite reach as deep or stretch as well as Sentinel's did, and it burnt in the best possible ways. The tips brushed against the top of his valve, rubbing along sensors that he knew as well as Starscream himself. Pleasure rippled along his exoskeleton and sent his wings flicking.

"Such a pretty little thing, even after all this time," Sentinel cooed, twisting his wrist enough to wrench a choked sob from Starscream. "Even if your voice is no good anymore."

Starscream wanted to shoot him. He onlined one optic for long enough to glare with every ounce of venom in his system, but swiftly changed his mind when he caught the way Sentinel was looking at him. He gazed longingly, shamelessly, as if Starscream were the most beautiful thing on the planet. It had been so long since he had seen that look on his face, and he wondered why things had gone so wrong if Sentinel adored him so much.

Perhaps Starscream was overreacting all along, making nothing into something and—

No.

He still remembered the night Sentinel returned to him, covered in the energon of the Primes and trembling like a leaf in the wind. Nothing had been the same since. He didn't try to hide his cruelty after that. He became more and more distant, more and more hostile until Starscream finally had enough. All of his faith in the plan that Sentinel proposed to him failed when he started the mining operations.

There was no other alternative. He had spent many nights looking for one.

"Sentinel," Starscream cried, voice warbling in his throat. "Give me more."

Sentinel laughed, the wretched creature. His digits made a wet noise as they came out, slick with lubricant. Starscream whined his complaint and rocked his hips. His valve cycled around nothing, desperate to be filled once more. He needed it, he needed to be fragged by Sentinel more than he'd ever needed anything before. It was going to kill him.

He was pushed back to the floor by the same servo, leaving a smear of his own lubricant staining his cockpit. Starscream would have complained, but he was too desperate to drown in his fantasy that everything was normal and okay. Pain shot up his arms as he was forced to lay on his bound servos, but it did nothing other than pleasantly muddle his processor even further.

He spread his legs enticingly and watched Sentinel climb between them. Sentinel's panel clicked away, and then the tip of his spike was sliding between his folds. Something akin to a desperate moan fell from Starscream's intake as he canted his hips up, trying to force himself onto that spike as best as he could. It didn't work, much to his dismay and Sentinel's amusement.

"We don't have long, sweet thing," Sentinel leaned down to speak those words into Starscream's audial.

His presence enveloped Starscream and threatened to drown him. He only moaned and twitched his legs out further. Sentinel laughed once more and finally, finally began to enter him. He muttered to himself, something about how tight Starscream was, but he wasn't listening to a thing Sentinel was saying. The stretch, even after having Sentinel's digits in him, ached in the most pleasant ways.

He lolled his helm back, shuttering his optics and trembling. It took a beat for Sentinel to fully enter him, but once he did, he wasted no time. Starscream rocked against the floor with each harsh thrust, moaning and whimpering like it would save his spark. White-hot pleasure ran like live wires along his form, sparking charge throughout him and threatening to fry his overheating systems. He allowed his fans to scream, if only because his moans drowned out the noise.

Sentinel grunted softly when his callipers squeezed against his spike. Their many years apart had not changed how vocal either of them were when it came to the berth, if the way Sentinel couldn't keep himself from talking was anything to go by. Starscream eventually drowned out whatever he was saying. The praise that spilled from him was a sickening reminder of better times, when he still had a home to belong to and the hope that somebody good could love someone like him.

It didn't take long for overload to wash over them. Starscream cried, loud and hard with coolant smearing his facial plates. He sobbed as his systems blew and his vision went dark, laced with warning signs that he either dismissed or ignored. Somewhere in the distance, he was vaguely aware of Sentinel overloading in perfect sync. Charge sparked between them, released by their fried systems until Sentinel pulled out and lay beside him. Starscream remained limp, vents panting.

"Join me," Sentinel said, barely audible and just a little bit desperate.

Starscream offlined his optics. "No."

It would have felt wonderful to properly spread his wings for the first time in fifty years, if it were under any other circumstance. Starscream followed D-16 — no, Megatron — closely, bitter grief making it impossible to do much else. At his side, Shockwave and Soundwave; lucky survivors of his situation, and ones that knew him well enough to understand how he felt.

His home first, then his trine until finally, Sentinel.

How much was he doomed to lose? Was that it? Was he going to lead a peaceful life under Megatron, or was he cursed forever?

There was only one way to find out, he supposed as he kicked his engines and approached Megatron's tail. Perhaps his pain was finally over.