#fuzipenguin

<3 <3 <3 I hope this helps ease the pain right now! 

Sick Day

For once, Sunstreaker is in the infirmary for an injury that has nothing to do with battle or Sideswipe convincing him to take part in some ill-advised scheme. 

He has, of all things, caught the Cybertronian version of the flu. 

“That’s what you get for jumping into berth with one of those pretty visitors from Magnus’ team,” Ratchet grouses as he fusses over Sunstreaker, who could probably recover on his own, back in his room with Sideswipe, but Ratchet wants to fuss, and Sunstreaker wants to let him. 

He feels miserable. 

His vents rattle, collecting condensation where there should be none. Every strut and cable aches. He can’t decide if he’s hot or cold. His optics keep weeping oils. And worst of all, Sideswipe won’t stop hovering. 

“No one told me they could be carrying the plague,” Sunstreaker complains, his vocals full of static that makes his audials hurt. 

He sounds like fragging Starscream, damn it. 

“It’s not the plague,” Ratchet says as he sets a tray within reach, loaded up with medgrade energon and supplements and cooling pads. As if being sick wasn’t bad enough, Sunstreaker has to ensure medical grade. 

Blech. 

“The cybonic plague is deadly and has no cure,” Ratchet repeats as he swaps the cooling pad that’s become too hot over Sunstreaker’s abdomen -- where his engine block resides -- and replaces it for one that’s blissfully, actually cool. “This is a common virus, not unlike the human’s influenza, and if you’d been keeping up on your vaccines, you wouldn’t have caught it.” 

“I told him to stop skipping his appointments,” Sideswipe pipes up, like the traitor he is. He just wants Ratchet to know how he’d obedient he’d been by not avoiding Ratchet for their yearly evaluation. 

Sunstreaker can’t help that he was busy at the time. 

“Though Ultra Magnus is kind of to blame, isn’t he?” Sideswipe adds as he scoots closer, chair scraping obnoxiously loud across the floor. “He’s supposed to be keeping his mechs vaccinated, too.” 

“Yes.” Ratchet scowls and balls up the used cooling pad before he remembers they’re supposed to be recycling them and tossing it into the disinfector. “When I’m finished here, I have a few choice words for Ultra Magnus. He should know better.” 

Sideswipe nods sagely, but Sunstreaker can feel the glee across their bond. Someone’s going to be in trouble, and it’s not either of them. 

Score. 

“Is that why Hot Rod doesn’t get your tender loving care?” Sideswipe asks, and immediately, Sunstreaker hates his brother all over again. 

“Hot Rod?” Ratchet echoes and whirls on Sunstreaker, looking him up and down. “Loud? Flashy? Definitely your type, but I think you could do better, Sunstreaker.” 

Sideswipe snickers. 

“Shut up,” Sunstreaker hisses, his face burning with embarrassment. Or fever. He’s not sure which. 

“Thank you, Sideswipe. I needed to know who else to blame,” Ratchet says, and Sunstreaker wonders if there’s a hole deep enough to crawl in. Ratchet pats Sunstreaker on the shoulder, however, his field radiating comfort. “Take a stasis nap. I’ll be back to check on you in a little bit.” 

Sunstreaker sighs, and his vents rattle stickily. “Yes, Ratchet.” 

“If only you were always so obedient,” Ratchet mutters, but he nudges more medgrade closer to Sunstreaker, pats Sideswipe on the head, and whisks out of the room. No doubt he’s off to terrorize Ultra Magnus and Rodimus both. 

Sideswipe scoots even closer and picks up the medgrade, trying to feed it to Sunstreaker though Sunstreaker is more than capable of feeding himself. “Come on. A few sips,” he says. 

“I’m not dying,” Sunstreaker grumbles, but it’s kind of nice, being doted on like this, so he lets it happen with only a token protest. 

He’s never going to let Hot Rod live this down. 

Fragger. 

Time and Time Again by @fuzipenguin, featuring art from @snailtraindraws

[fic link] - [art link]

Sideswipe wakes up and goes about his day, not realizing that in a few hours everything will change when he's killed in battle. And then he wakes up again, thinking it was all just a bad dream. Except he dies again. And wakes up again. And again and again and again...

Tomorrow is in Your Hands by @smokey-prime, featuring art from @sasharnie and @midnightraid

[fic link] - [sasharnie art link] - [midnightraid art link]

After the events of Unicron, Starscream had come to terms with his own death, ready to spend the rest of eternity as part of Bumblebee’s mind as he serves as the Cybertronian representative of the Galactic Council. However, once Bumblebee starts to suffer from processor degradation as a result of his connection to Starscream, he undergoes a procedure to have Starscream removed from his head and placed into a newly forged protoform to be raised in an advanced growth chamber.

Now years later, Starscream awakens to a new Cybertron, one where the planet is undergoing a new age of peace and prosperity thanks to Windblade’s reign as ruler. However, this peace is threatened when a Cybertronian is murdered by an unknown individual with the intent to restart the Decepticon movement. Starscream, Windblade, Bumblebee, and others must work together if they wish to keep Cybertron from falling back into disarray, made even worse when news of Starscream’s “revival” becomes public.

And not to mention the feelings growing between Starscream and Windblade...

Wireless by @blushlouise and @meridianbarony, featuring art from @shapeofmetal and @xydek

[fic link] - [shapeofmetal art link] - [xydek art link]

It’s a complete accident. Really. First Aid didn’t mean to invent wireless interfacing, he really didn’t. He didn’t even tell Ratchet he’d done it, because he really didn’t think it would work.

And Defensor and Superion definitely didn’t mean to be so loud when they tested it out that they attracted the attention of Bruticus.

And it wasn’t like anyone could have foreseen that the Combaticons wouldn’t attack, but would instead go back to the Decepticons and demand that Soundwave replicate the technology, stat, and make sure every Decepticon on Earth had access to it. Even less that Megatron would think it was a brilliant idea.

At least, when the rest of the Autobots finally find out what’s going on, they’re not slow to adapt.They’re certainly not slow to reconnect, so to say, especially with lovers from across faction lines- and maybe turn the tables a bit.

Sideswipe could remember the eastern forest so vividly in his memories. He could remember when the lands were green and bright with colors and bountiful with wild things. He remembered when crops flourished when mecha prospered in the lands. He remembered the town so boisterous with festival and song, so warm with community and love. He remembered the castle that perched on top the highest eastern hill, remembered each of the hundred rooms, both large and small, even those hidden from view. He remembered the lush perfectly trimmed gardens, the acres of fruit trees, the hearty laughter of the kings that ruled. He remembered these things so vividly yet...never lived a single one of them.

Sideswipe had grown up a general's son. Adopted from who, Kup never said but Sideswipe always had some big dreams of where he came from. Too big Kup often remarked but Sideswipe wouldn’t have it. It was too odd to have a general of a kingdom’s army never once visit the castle. Even odder to have kings of said kingdom never show their faces. One day Kup would have to tell him the truth about him and the kingdom but as it stood it really didn’t matter. The two were family no matter what circumstances.

And what a family. Sideswipe wasn’t Kup’s only son,not by a long shot. With as many wars that had seen the kingdom many soldiers had died, leaving some of their heirs with no one left in the world. Kup being the mech he was took in as many as his army pension would allow. Sideswipe had many brothers and many of them being older he had big expectations to live up to. His eldest brother Springer already a general in his own right and Bumblebee a squire to the emperor's personal guard. Drift was already working with the village healer. Impactor taking over as lead miner. The list never seemed to end. For Sideswipe at least, there was an end to it however. Him. It always ended with him. Right at the bottom. Kup nor any of his brothers would ever think of him that way but Sideswipe knew it was true.

He wasn’t that worried about his place though. He knew he’d find his greatness in time. Till then he had no problem simply being a town guard. It was an honorable position as Kup would say and it let him get to know and help the locals like none of his brothers really could. There were a few more boons than just that though...just not ones he could so freely brag about to his brothers. They were quite important to him though.

Leader of the guard, Hound, was like a second father for one. The hardy middle-aged mech just as wise and skilled in the art of defending the people without the need for glory. He was certainly less frazzled than old Kup that was for sure. He was a mech who should have his own conjunx, his own sparkling but chose a quiet life of privacy. Rain and snow, dark and perilous, Hound prowled the streets of their village and struck down the everyday evils. Drunken brutes, thieving rats, contracted killers, Hound could take them all. He was quite a mech.

He, unlike most of those in the village, also had a fascination with the dark wood. Every night when they weren’t on shift the two would make the treacherous journey down. The mist from the valley river clouding their vision and numbing them to the bone till they could barely stand. Despite knowing that one poor step could likely kill them though the two had never failed to get to the cursed forest. Hound looking for a monster, for new tales he could write down and tell again to the local new molds. Sideswipe looking for….something his spark told him he needed.

Hound never failed to find a monster, some nights he even returned with something more than just a story but Sideswipe was always left longing no matter what inch of the forest they explored. Something in his spark told him he needed to go further, to go beyond the woods but even Hound refused to explore the ruins of the mad king’s castle. The haunted keep of the mighty tyrant who had almost ruined the empire. A believer of stories himself Hound was positive should anyone disturb the place, or try to claim it for themselves the mad king’s lost spirit would return in full force to reign again.

Sideswipe had followed Hound’s warnings for years since he first started going to the woods with the mech...but tonight he decided he needed to follow his spark. He needed to know what was waiting for him in the keep of the great warlord. Was it his lineage? Was he a fallen dark prince raised to be better? Sideswipe could only hope. Kup deserved a castle. It would certainly make holidays much more bearable with all that space.

---------------------------------------------

It was a minor holiday. Not one spent to be with family but one for young mecha to find each other, appreciate each other, and potentially spark a relationship. In the past, Kup and Hound said the festivals were bright and scented with the warm season flora and fine fuel, risked with lingering snow, and littered with game stalls. With the darkening of the kingdom, the Iugum festival was a bit more somber but there were still games, dramatic plays, good fuel, and some of the hardier flowers that had survived over the years. All lit by warm outdoor forges and bright lamplight. All ending in a magnificent fireworks display that lit up the night. Sideswipe had managed a few dates over the years but tonight his date was with destiny.

The journey down the valley was no less or more treacherous than it usually was but for some reason, the world around Sideswipe seemed so much darker than it usually did. His optics could barely pierce the fog and even the light of his crystal torch seemed to do no good. Far too many times Sideswipe wandered too close to the river’s edge, nearly plunging in like a rock to be swept away and killed by the violent current. So the usually unsettling stillness of the mad king’s woods was calming by the time he arrived.

The odd flora that managed to thrive there glowed fiercely in the dark mist, the only sign that he was finally safe for the moment. Sideswipe leaned heavily on a tree as he caught his breath, the cold really starting to seep in and numb his digits. Looking to the sky he could just see the moon beyond the clouds. Back home it would hang brightly in the sky crowded by stars but in the dark forest, it could barely be seen through the trees. For a moment Sideswipe doubted his quest, he could be back home, arm hooked around any femme or bot who caught his fancy. Pressed together to share warmth, and likely a few kisses. The two could be buying fuel and sweets to share then sneak off to one of the local ins to rent a bed for a few hours.

It was a warming thought but Sideswipe chose to be cold and damp. Pushing himself from the tree and pulling his hunting knife from his travel pouch. The monsters in the dark woods weren’t all that dangerous but they were monsters and anything could happen.

Despite knowing every inch of the woods Sideswipe quickly found himself getting lost, turned around, and frankly panicked. He knew the woods. He’d no longer needed even Hound’s keen directions to get him to where he wanted to go and yet Sideswipe found dead end after dead end instead of the gates to the mad king’s keep. A bit of a skeptic he didn’t want to believe it was some dark forces keeping him from the place. It was absurd to think, it was the mist, the cold, the hunger, his creeping doubt turning him all around. Nothing more and nothing his map couldn’t fix. He hadn’t used the map Hound had drawn up for him since the second year they started coming to the woods but Sideswipe was determined to get into the Tyrant’s castle.

It took what felt like ages even with the map but soon the slick near black walls of the mad king’s keep slid into view. Sideswipe hopped the gate, expecting some sort of lingering protection, hell even a magic ward or something...but he fell to the damp earth with ease. All his struggles nothing but made up troubles thanks to his personal doubt. So what if he didn’t find anything in the castle, so what if he was no dark prince, he was still the first mech to set foot in the mad king’s keep and survive in over three hundred years! He would be a legend if Hound and Kup didn’t kill him and he didn’t unleash the wrath of the Tyrant king for another millennium.

The front door of the castle was rightly barred but getting in wasn’t much of a challenge. Sideswipe scaled the overgrown vines to a balcony landing and smashed in a window. Inside his pedsteps on the frosty stone echoed loudly in the empty keep. At every turn he expected a guard or some hulking creature to rush him but his only companion in the massive castle was dust and a few glitchrats who could not be scared by Primus himself.

Not knowing where to go and knowing how easily he could get lost in the keep for hours perhaps even cycles Sideswipe let his spark guide him. Down spiraling staircases and winding halls dark with disuse, through overgrown tunnels and decrepit walkways, till he came upon a strange open room. Being outside the arena had gathered snow but that was the smallest detail to remark upon the place.

The most remarkable would be the statues. A dozen if not hundreds of them scattered around the place. Like a museum or a fancy garden except here, energon stained the walls of the arena and swords and axes littered the gutters. Sideswipe had heard the tales of the mad king’s duels, his Colosseum, where he dared any and all young heroes from across the empire to come and dare to dethrone him. None were successful. None ever returned to their homes dead or alive. Is this what happened to them? Turned to stone decorations? How?

It seemed insane but as Sideswipe moved carefully through the throngs of statues, faces of legend struck out to him. The Phoenix son Rodimus, the gunmen's trio from Vos, the invincible Magnus, all struck down. All made useless by the Tyrant. Morbidly Sideswipe wished he could have seen the mech in his heyday before the Emperor struck him down. How terrifying he must have been to witness, to watch him not only slaughter heroes but ruthlessly configure them to stone.

Distracted by his daydreams Sideswipe nearly tripped over a fallen piece of statue. An arm. As he looked down at it his spark burned. Taking in a sharp breath Sideswipe hissed through his clenched denta till the pain subsided. This? This statue was what called to him? He didn’t even know who it was.

Despite that, Sideswipe’s eagerness quickly consumed him. Frantically searching the ground through the snow he managed to find more and more pieces. The wind or some animal must have knocked the statue down and broken it. What a terrible thought. To be a living statue broken in pieces.

He didn’t have much with him, and the stone was so wet it would have been impossible to piece the mech together, yet madness spurred him. Dragging the pieces inside Sideswipe settled them in the dryest room he could find. Using whatever long rotted wood he could scavenge to light a fire to make it even dryer. With some finely aged energex and vintage honey from long extinct voltstingers he mixed a glue and got to work.

There were a lot of pieces but somehow time hadn’t done nearly the damage it had done to everything else in the keep. There were a few pits from rain, nicks from birds but nothing that diminished the slowly emerging beauty of the statue...of the mech he was piecing back together.

He couldn’t have been very old when he was struck down, likely just as old as Sideswipe. He was certainly shaping up to only stand just an inch or so taller. Not a bot of impressive structure by any means so Sideswipe could only fantasize what great skill he must have had to dare take on the mad king.

He was beautiful by the end, likely made only more so thanks to the long grueling night Sideswipe spent fixing him. The young guard couldn’t help but trace his digits over every harsh line and soft curve of his frame, wishing he had more than just the light of the slowly dying fire to see him.

Sighing as he fell back on the small bed that took up most of the room Sideswipe pulled a cube of fuel from his bag and took in heavy gulps as he admired his work from afar. What to do now? His spark pulsed heavy in his chest...but there was nothing left to be done and he needed to get back to the village. Should he risk taking the statue home? Take it back outside to stand with the rest? He truly didn’t know but something told him his job wasn’t done.

---------------------------

Sideswipe had to leave the mad king’s keep and his lovely statue, but he returned every chance he got. Mostly just to admire, to calm the pain in his spark but sometimes ideas struck him. He could make the statue better. More alive. So he brought paints and fresh clay to fix the damage that had been done.

It was rough going, Sideswipe was no artist and any he knew wouldn’t dare step a ped into the keep. Also, nothing seemed perfect. He mixed what had to be over a hundred colors, tried just as many designs but by the end of the long cycles he would rinse everything away and sulk home to do his shift. Weeks went by, months, even a year. Many thought he’d found a sweetheart in the kingdom over and he was more than happy to let them believe so so they wouldn’t catch on to what he was really doing.

Determination and patience persevered though and one night Sideswipe found himself satisfied and embarrassingly... enamored. The way the fire and weak lamplight struck every angle of the statue created such a beautiful scene. One of ancient stories, fairy tales, where beautiful mechs who were struck down and imprisoned could be brought back to life by loved ones. Silly as he knew it was Sideswipe couldn’t help himself. As soon as the paint was dry his digits found the statue, again admiring every curve, every strong sculpted line. His lips inevitably found the statues, no matter for how brief a time.

Nothing came from his kiss, Sideswipe didn’t expect it, why should it? He was no prince, no hero, just a guard in a small village. Any yet…

Suddenly the statue began to crack, Sideswipe swearing up and down as he instantly feared his work would crumble to dust before his optics. Only light spilled out from the cracks, becoming brighter and brighter till it filled the room blinding Sideswipe and knocking him back on his aft.

When the ringing in his ears faded and his optics cycled back into focus the focused on a living breathing mech. He stood, looking just as dumbfounded as Sideswipe felt. His gaze darted to Sideswipe, his look piercing from rage then soft. “Who...what happened?”

Sideswipe could only stumble over his words still in just as much awe. “I-I-I don’t know. I don’t even know who you are. I think you may have lost against the mad king? I d-d-ont know!”

Optics narrowed to a glare, indignant the mech had made his way toward Sideswipe. “Don’t know me? Me! How dare you- Did you say the mad king?” Fear suddenly filled those beautiful optics. “Is he still here? How did you get past him!”

“No, no! He’s gone! D-dead. This place has been empty forever. The emperor-”

“The emperor? That lazy bastard! He wouldn’t do a damn thing!”

“Y-yeah so they overthrew him! Orion took his place.”

“Orion? I don’t know any Orion. How long have I been gone? You wouldn’t know- Are you from the kingdom east of here? Does it still exist?”

Sideswipe was thrilled to finally have a question he could answer. “Y-yeah! It’s...well it’s not gone. Could be better but we’re making it work.”

“Are the-” The other mech fell to his knees before he could get the rest out, already overwhelmed and shaking from the panic. “My sires, my family- That lunatic-” Sideswipe rushed to his side.

“The kings are fine...but...are you saying what I think you are? Are you...a prince? I didn’t even know there was a prince!”

“You- you don’t know me?” the prince crumpled with dismay. “Why should you I failed. I failed my people, my fathers, myself. I don’t deserve remembrance. I don’t deserve anything!”

“No, that’s not true! They never leave the castle!”

“FROM SHAME!”

“No!”

“HOW DO YOU KNOW?! WHO DO YOU EVEN THINK YOU ARE!”

Sideswipe backed off a bit, the prince had every right to be upset...but the thought of it made his spark burn with guilt. “Because...you never could have won. Let me show you something.”

________________________

Even the meager moonlight that slipped through the thick clouds looked beautiful as it reflected off the prince’s frame. Even as he stood there horrified looking at the garden of warriors who had fallen at the mad king’s brutal servo. Sideswipe tried to stay as quiet as he could, this must have been such a shock. To have lost so much time. He wasn’t expecting the Prince to turn so swiftly, to grab him, to hug him close.

“I’m sorry. Y-you saved me. No one found me- N-” Sideswipe slipped his arms around the Prince’s waist as he felt the mech shudder against him. “Tell me, my hero. Your name.”

Sideswipe felt his spark shoot to his intake. Forcing him to swallow it down. “S-sideswipe. I-I’m no hero, I’m just a guard-” The prince grabbed his chin.

“Sideswipe, I can’t say with what but if you would kindly escort me to my home you will be rewarded handsomely. Station, fortune, anything you would desire is already yours. I’ll make sure of it.”

“O-oh. okay.” Sideswipe didn’t mean to sound so somber. Fame, fortune, it sounded amazing and he would be ungrateful to turn his nose up at it….but part of him only wanted his statue back and it must have been obvious.

The prince grabbed at his arm, his tone suddenly heavy like velvet. “Is there something...specific you desire?” The prince was looking at him now, his optics barely staying on one spot as they admired his frame.

“I-it’s too selfish. I-”

“Let’s go someplace comfortable Sideswipe.”

__________________________________________

Sunstreaker looked like a mech out of time lying draped by Megatron’s personal covers. Thick pelts from long fled mechanimals, and fine fabrics that the kingdom could no longer afford to make. The muted sun that drifted in reflecting off his slick gold paint, making him shimmer and glow. The prince glowing even when the sun was long sealed away by the clouds.

He was a sight that belonged in a painting, not pressed so closely to a mech like Sideswipe’s chest and yet there he was, recharging peacefully as Sideswipe fondled his ornate helm and worried what excuse he would give to Hound when he finally returned to work after the five cycle trip it would take to get to the kingdom capital. He was so worried in fact that he didn’t notice the prince awake, only felt him start to move when he was more than conscious.

Sunstreaker wasted no time slipping from the covers to take his place on Sideswipe, slowly grinding his bared array against his hero’s. “Morning hero. I had a lovely dream. Would you like to make it a reality for me?”  

Sideswipe grabbed Sunstreaker’s aft, running his thumbs along the curve. “Are you sure it wasn’t just a memory?”

“Fuck me again just in case.” Sideswipe felt his plug pop free, knocking against his panel. Who was he to deny his prince?

“Of course.” Sliding back his panel Sideswipe’s plug slid through warm buzzing valve lips. He felt them quiver as his base node brushed against Sunstreaker’s own. The rest of the mech shuddering in the same ecstasy.

“Sideswipe~” With a quick rutt Sideswipe seated his plug in Sunstreaker’s valve, spreading him, filling him so perfectly the mech could only moan and cry for Primus.

“My prince.”

________________________________________________________________

Weak from his years of imprisonment and left dizzyingly drunk off the only fuel the keep had offered them Sunstreaker was not strong enough for a long journey. Sideswipe knew if he spent any longer in the castle though Hound would send someone to look for him.

So he took the burden upon himself to carry the prince when he could no longer stand. It wasn’t such a burden to carry the mech he’d likely spend the rest of his life with but five cycles up and down hills was still an undertaking. Thankfully he was a hero.

As the two stepped out to the dark wood Sunstreaker looked upon what had become of the lands with mourning in his optics. “I don’t understand. This place used to be so bright.” Reaching out to a bush filled with dull flowers, the tips of his digits brushed the petals. They livened to a brilliant neon blush. “That’s better.”

@fuzipenguin and especially @balloonarcade, I've now made a Sideswipe and Sunstreaker playlist because of you both, and this song especially sings to them in my opinion. Depending what line you look at in the song it goes to one or the other twin. Anyways! Curse and bless you both!

Oh, god, tons. XD

My favourite Bluestreak is a badass. He’s been through hell and back (although what constitutes that hell depends on the AU), and he is indisputably a little damaged. But he is far stronger than people give him credit for, and it’s a testament to his inner strength that he hasn’t come out the other side of his hell jaded and mean-spirited.

(Sometimes I like to think he plays naive and “young” for his own advantage, because people expect that of him… They see a chatty younger mech and just make assumptions. Anyone who underestimates him usually gets it thrown back in their face.)

He loves video games, and will quite happily stomp anyone in a fighting or racing game. (He and Sideswipe have a good-natured rivalry going on for King of the Console when it comes to fighting games.) He’s a terrible cook/mixologist, though. 

Before the war he was a merchant. What he sold varies depending on the story/AU/backstory, but it’s always some kind of artisan craft (think glasswares or ceramics), or sometimes the materials to create art. On Earth, he misses making things with his hands, but he doesn’t have a lot of chance to practice his craft there.

Because of the trauma he’s endured, he’s got a lot of “noise” in his head, which is why he talks so much. (Anyone with severe anxiety might sympathize with him.) There are only two times that the voices in his head go quiet. First, when he’s on the battlefield using his skills as a sniper: analyzing the air currents and distance and movements and everything else that goes into making him a deadly shooter leaves no space in his processor for anything but his calculations. But he can’t function socially when he’s in that headspace, so he can’t “stay” there. The second time is when he’s plugged into another mech’s processor (ala plug-n-play interfacing). Having another processor paired to his calms the nerves and soothes the anxiety, and he can finally be calm and relaxed. Getting a good overload out of it doesn’t hurt, either. :)

“So,” Sideswipe says, now that introductions are finished, and he and Sunstreaker are back on the same wavelength, “Let’s talk boundaries.” 

He stares across the table at Optimus Prime, crosses one leg over the over, and rests his elbows on the arms of the chair. 

“Sides,” Sunstreaker hisses, his tone thick with mortification, his face visibly darkening in hue. But there’s a touch of pride in his field, too, so Sideswipe’s not about to stop. 

Optimus Prime nods and leans back into his own chair while beside him, Ultra Magnus frowns but holds his glossa. “Yes, of course. Which in particular would you like to discuss first?” 

“How often is Sunstreaker required to be in your berth?” Sideswipe asks. No point in ignoring the cityformer in the middle of the room. Best to tackle the most important stuff first. 

They can worry about all the fiddly details later. 

Sunstreaker’s field goes frigid with embarrassment. “I can’t believe you,” he snarls, but Optimus Prime only shakes his head and offers a quiet, sad sigh. 

“It is a fair question. I do not blame him for his suspicion,” the Prime says. He folds his hands together across his lap. “Our bond has been completed which means your brother has satisfied his part of the Consort’s duty. If he no longer wishes to visit my berth, then he is not required to do so.” 

Sideswipe cocks his head, not sure if his audials are malfunctioning or if Optimus Prime really just said he has no interest in having Sunstreaker in his berth. Because, honestly, has he seen Sunstreaker? Objectively speaking, Sunny is gorgeous. Sideswipe can’t think of a single mech who hasn’t wanted to have a go at him. 

“You don’t want him?” Sideswipe asks. 

Sunstreaker makes a small noise and hides behind his cube of energon. 

“It is not a matter of what I want, but what Sunstreaker wants,” the Prime says. He cycles another ventilation, and sadness flickers in his optics. “I am only interested in the mechs who come to my berth willingly, and so far, Sunstreaker has not expressed a desire to do so.” 

“And I won’t,” Sunstreaker says, head still lowered, but cheeks stained with embarrassment rather than fear. “I just did what I had to do.” 

Sideswipe works his jaw and presses his fingertips together. “Right. And what privileges are we gonna lose if you don’t get to frag Sunny whenever you want?” Maybe if he pushes the boundaries a little, he can finally get the Prime’s polite veneer to crack, revealing his true nature. 

He wants to believe that this Prime is different from all the others. Sunstreaker seems to believe it, and usually, that’s enough for Sideswipe. But this is Sunstreaker, his twin, spark of his spark. He can’t take any chances. 

He has to be sure. 

“None. Sunstreaker will retain every privilege he is due,” the Prime says, without a blink, his tone perfectly even. “His quarters are his own -- and yours as well. No one will enter them without your permission. Not even myself.” 

“Would you be more comfortable if these terms were available in writing?” Ultra Magnus asks, speaking for the first time. 

Sideswipe shrugs. “Couldn’t hurt.” He shifts and leans forward, elbows braced on his knees, feet planted firmly on the floor. “Say Sunstreaker does decide he wants to be in your berth. What then?” 

“I assume we will come to mutually agreeable restrictions on what we do and do not want to share,” the Prime says, and his poise softens, tone turning warm. “I understand that the bond between twins can be quite strong, especially when they are in close proximity. If it is something you both would desire, I would welcome you both.” 

“Of course you would.” Sideswipe fights not to scowl and fails miserably. Everyone wants a taste of a pair of split-sparked twins, don’t they?

Optimus Prime frowns. “I apologize. That was meant to be reassuring.” 

“And it was,” Sunstreaker says, clamping a hand down on Sideswipe’s knee and giving him a look. Which, wow, that’s interesting. “Sideswipe just took it the wrong way. It doesn’t matter though. Sideswipe’s the only one I want.” 

Sideswipe’s spark surges with affection for his brother. Not that he ever had any doubt. They’ve always belonged to each other. 

“Then that is the boundary I’ll keep,” Optimus says, and the smile he gives them seems genuine. If there’s any irritation in him for their defiance, it doesn’t show. “How else may I ease your mind?” 

Sunstreaker grabs Sideswipe’s hand and tangles their fingers together. He gives Sideswipe a soft smile, a confident one, and for the first time, Sideswipe starts to believe in this Optimus Prime. If Sunstreaker feels safe enough to show how he truly feels about Sideswipe, then perhaps there’s something to trust in Optimus Prime after all. 

Sideswipe squeezes Sunstreaker’s hand. “Let’s talk privileges,” he says. 

Because he doesn’t intend to leave any stones unturned.