#starjackweek

He fails. No matter how he tries and he does try, he can’t stop his thoughts from drifting to Wheeljack, the touch on his helm as he rested on his desk. Those words that Wheeljack had said echoing in his mind making his spark stutter every time and finally gives up on actually doing anything when the memory pops again abruptly, intruding into his mind like some kind of assassin. It makes his thoughts scatter and mix up until all he can think about are those three little words. He pushes his work away in frustration and puts his head in his hands, unable to think, unable to do anything. How Wheeljack managed to get under his plating he’ll never know but he’s sure that this is slowly becoming a problem he can’t ignore. If he’s honest with himself, which isn’t very often, he doesn’t want to ignore it. Grumbling nonsense, he looks once more to the discarded datapads and picks up one of the ones that Wheeljack brought that happened to actually be one of the scientist’s personal datapads. He runs his fingers over the well-worn scratches that have come with years of use, scratches that he’s memorized unwittingly and almost hates how easy it is for him to pick it out from the rest. There’s nothing left to do with it now that he’s finished all the paperwork that has to do with the relevant information. All that can be done with it is to be returned.

Starscream’s never used such a weak excuse before and is ashamed to admit that it is an excuse because it’s not as though he needs to be the one to return the datapad. He could just let it all go but at the same time he could never let it go, doesn’t want to let it go, so he marches forth and hits the panel to let himself into Wheeljack’s lab. With his usual casual flare, he strides into the room and inspects it half-heartedly as though to make it not as obvious that his true intention is to speak with Wheeljack. The scientist, formerly engrossed with his latest project, lifts his head up to greet Starscream only to roll his eyes at Starscream’s little display. Stopping right in front of Wheeljack, Starscream unceremoniously presents Wheeljack with the datapad without any comment. Wheeljack looks between the datapad proffered to him and Starscream before deciding he might as well take the thing already and so grips it carefully while leveling a calculating look at Starscream, all his uncertainty displayed quite plainly. Starscream tries not to let it get to him but it does because it’s Wheeljack and Wheeljack had confessed something unfathomable, unknowable. He shouldn’t but he expects something to happen but why would it? Wheeljack doesn’t know he knows, so he’ll act as he always does.

“To what do I owe the pleasure of the emperor delivering my datapad to me in person?” Wheeljack eyes him up and down, tossing his head back casually in a mock evaluation. It’s something Starscream should have seen before, should have noticed but he was so caught up in who he, himself is to ever bother.

“I had fallen into recharge so I didn’t get a chance to go over the reports with you before so I thought I’d do that now,” Starscream says as he leans against the counter.

Wheeljack doesn’t move for a moment then tosses the datapad into a pile of datapads cluttering a part of his lab and crosses his arms. A little startled, Starscream’s optics flick to the pile then back to Wheeljack, casual demeanor gone.

“Why are you really here, Starscream?” Wheeljack tilts his head at him.

Starscream doesn’t dare move, thinking of what to say, out of his comfort zone and at a loss of what direction he intends on taking this, he’s far too slow for his liking in his dilemma. Apparently, Wheeljack agrees with that statement, leaning on the counter and into Starscream’s space, he makes it clear with his optics that he’s not up for any kind of game today.

“You said you don’t lie to me,” Wheeljack points an accusatory finger at Starscream.

That’s enough to tick Starscream off in his already fragile position and for the first time in millions of years he speaks without thinking, snapping, “And you said you love me.”

As soon as the words are out of his mouth he knows that he messed up. This isn’t how he had wanted to bring it up, he didn’t even know how he had wanted to bring up just that this wasn’t how it was supposed to go. Wheeljack seems to have taken it badly, slumping against the counter and optics wide with fear, with sadness, with what Starscream doesn’t know. Everything he’s ever learned about reading others, about understanding them flies out the window to some faraway place.

When Wheeljack speaks it’s soft and so unlike him, Starscream almost recoils, almost, “You heard.”

It’s not a question.

“Yes,” Starscream says and he knows that this moment is important, that its significant and something is supposed to happen. This moment will change them forever but… He doesn’t know what he’s supposed to do.

“Well?” Wheeljack asks in the pause, heavy with the unspoken, the unknown.

“Well, what?” Starscream parrots back and he does recoil this time as Wheeljack’s shoulders slump, “I heard you.”

“Oh,” he vents and hikes himself back up, not looking at Starscream, “Well, if that’s everything, I’m going to get back to work.”

And he does. Wheeljack goes back to working on his project like Starscream wasn’t there which stings somehow. Not knowing what to do, he stares, dumbfounded, as Wheeljack carefully moves his hands, tinkering as he always does and without another word, Starscream leaves. In the hall, his chassis feels tight, restrictive with a distinct pain in his spark and he understands Wheeljack is upset and now he’s upset that Wheeljack’s upset. Isn’t that a hell of a revelation? Starscream let’s out a laugh then chokes it off as it comes out more as a sob. He’s done something wrong. That wasn’t right. He forgot himself completely, he had no plan, of course, it all went sour. What was it that he was even trying to do?

From then on, things weren’t normal between him and Wheeljack. In meetings, they didn’t greet each other, they didn’t linger afterward to talk together with Starscream complaining about the delegates while Wheeljack listened patiently. During the day, there was barely a hello between them. Whenever Wheeljack needed to turn in a report, he gave it to Rattrap or Windblade and never on one of his personal datapads. Starscream never saw these things until they were gone, how much Wheeljack had become a part of his life and now that it’s gone, it hurts. There it was, all of it, right in front of him and he squandered it, like he squanders every glimmer of hope in his life which, admittedly,  has not been many nor this precious. He didn’t know how badly he wanted it all before but he does now and it is significantly weighing on him to the point he can no longer hide it. So, to make it all worse, people were beginning to notice. People started skirting around the two of them awkwardly, staring at them both all the while as gossip and rumors filled the air, none of it pleasant. It was all blackmail or a twisted experiment that had gone wrong, wrong enough for him to grow a conscience.

He had to fix this. Somehow, he would fix it, he could still fix it. No matter his unease, he makes a plan so that this time, this time, he won’t mess it up. He knew everyone’s schedules like the back of his hand, so, it’s easy enough to figure out when he could get Wheeljack alone, where they could talk away from all the others without anyone hearing. It’s just after their daily meeting that’s more or less just everyone standing around, giving updates before it’s adjourned and they all head their separate ways. What’s useful about this meeting is that everyone is required to be there so even if he wanted to, Wheeljack wouldn’t be able to skip except for an emergency. So, Starscream’s able to make an excuse after he sees the scientist slip out of the room and tail Wheeljack down the hall until they come out into the gardens. Wheeljack is a mech of habit, and as such, has made a habit to come out here to clear his head after their daily meeting. Starscream, of course, knows this and waits until Wheeljack is at the same stone, railing he leans against to take it all in that’s in the more secluded part of the garden before he makes his approach.

He’s slow in his approach as if approaching a creature that’s easy to startle and with a sinking feeling, compares himself to a hunter because that might as well be what this is at this point: a hunt. Even so, he approaches and takes in Wheeljack as he does. His broad shoulders are relaxed and the sun shines down on him in soft light, turning parts of him into silhouette. Starscream stretches out his hand to touch Wheeljack’s back and get him to turn around before deciding against it and instead leans against the railing next to Wheeljack. Wheeljack tenses but gives no other inclination that he knows Starscream’s there. Starscream sighs, and lets his head fall. This is already going poorly.

“When we last talked…” Starscream begins before trailing off, steadying himself for what he wants to say.

“Wasn’t much of a conversation,” Wheeljack mutters back.

Starscream looks at him to find his optics still determinedly looking over the garden.

“That’s true,” Starscream doesn’t want the high ground, for once in all his life he doesn’t want all the power and he knows that’s exactly what’s happened. The power was his to make or break them. It’s terrifying.

“You want to talk about that?” Wheeljack shuffles to turn to Starscream, still leaning against the railing with one hand, the other on his hip.

“I do,” Starscream nods, and takes a chance placing a hand over Wheeljack’s, “I wanted to say… I’m sorry.”

Wheeljack doesn’t respond but he doesn’t pull away either so Starscream pushes on, “I don’t know what I want before you ask. I had no plan then and I have no plan now. What you said… It makes me happy to know that. This is… This isn’t coming outright.”

Starscream shutters his optics and puts a hand to his head, frustrated and aching and scared. His hand is tugged away gently and he looks to find Wheeljack even closer to him, making his vents stall.

“Say what you want to say,” Wheeljack tells him, his hand holding Starscream’s.

Starscream laughs bitterly even as some piece of hope comes back to his spark, “Isn’t that what I always do? I just say what I want to say and I mess things up. You made me stop thinking. What you said made me so unreasonably happy, I didn't know what to do with myself. I didn’t know what to do. I had no plan. You made me forget everything you damned slagger. I didn’t even know what I was feeling. I just knew I wanted to be close to you. There is one thing I’ve figured out-”

His rambling is cut short before he even registers he’s rambling by a pair of lips on his and he blinks, taking a moment to understand that Wheeljack is kissing him. Then, just like that, the kiss is broken with Wheeljack smirking at him, his scars twist up with his lips. The sight makes Starscream’s spark throb.

“You figured out…?” Wheeljack continues for him.

“I love you,” Starscream whispers and a clatter erupts from off to the side.

They both turned to see Windblade looking between them, a pile of datapads scattered at her feet.

“Oh,” Windblade mumbles before hurriedly picking up the pads and making a quick retreat.

“She probably thought I was going to kill you,” Starscream mutters, “Didn’t she?”

“You almost did,” Wheeljack pulls him back.

“What?” Starscream cups Wheeljack’s face, concern written on his face.

“From a broken spark,” Wheeljack smiles and Starscream groans at the joke.

“That is so-”

The feelings had been terrifying at first and he had no idea what to do with it all. It had been horrible at first, knowing he could tell no one and that he could never have what he wanted but he wanted it nevertheless. Then he had accepted it, accepted that he was in the best position he could be in and the closest he would ever come to what he desired. That would have to be enough and he was content with that, happy to be a confidant, an ally, a friend. He wouldn’t trade that for the world. Of course, he still dreamt of what could be if he only gave in and said something but he has no expectations either good or bad, however, he does know it would put unnecessary pressure on Starscream. So, he just stands to the side, as always, and watches Starscream snooze on his desk in a moment of calm that is very rare for the seeker, not wanting to disturb him. Eventually, ever so slowly, he moves forward to the desk and delicately sets the datapad he’d been carrying next to Starscream’s resting form on the desk. His hand hovers over it for a moment, and then another.

With the greatest care, he moves his hand to brush the side of Starscream’s helm and stops dead, not even venting as Starscream shifts at the contact but when he doesn’t wake up, Wheeljack continues forward. Resting his hand fully on Starscream’s helm, he smooths it over the warm plating, petting the sleeping seeker. Starscream sighs under the touch, almost as though he could sense the intention behind it. Wheeljack knows that it’s selfish, that he shouldn’t be doing this but he can’t help it, being so close to Starscream always makes his mind fuzzy. The simple touch is all he dares, though, nothing more, nothing less. It’s painful in knowing this is all he can ever have but blissful in knowing he can have this at all.

The same need, the same desire he has whenever he thinks of Starscream bubbles up now and so he leans down, just enough to see Starscream’s face and whispers ever so softly, “I love you.”

Wheeljack gasps awake and his body becomes a whir of motion as he reaches out quickly to grasp whatever awoke him, not in offense or defense but just to gain control. It all comes back slowly to him, starting with touch, the warm plating beneath his hand, then sight and he sees the concerned visage of Starscream before him. He’s frozen in his position, still reaching out towards Wheeljack and he realizes belatedly that it was Starscream who had broken him out of his nightmare. Sound clicks back on and he connects the process to being shocked out of stasis, it happens all the time and is perfectly normal. During stasis, most non-vital processes are shut down which could replicate the feelings of his nightmare, of his memory of being in the pod, healing from injuries that should have been fatal. Prolonged time in any such device effects differently and for Wheeljack, well, it was having nightmares for him but he can handle that, he could… He shivers involuntarily from the aftershock, still not able to fully shake off the fear no matter what logic he applied to it but he wasn’t in the pod anymore, he had to remember that. It doesn’t help to remember, nothing seems to be able to push it away. 

“Wheeljack?” Starscream’s voice comes softly, almost as though he was speaking through water and Wheeljack resets his audials so that his voice becomes clearer, “Are you alright?”

“Nightmare, sorry,” Wheeljack responds flatly, his hand still tight on Starscream’s arm and he tries to pull it away but no matter how hard he tries he can’t get himself to let go, almost as though he were magnetized to Starscream. He panics for a moment because knowing some of his inventions that could be a real thing that happened.

“What about?” Starscream’s words recapture his attention and he blinks at him, confused. “What was your nightmare about?” Starscream clarifies.

“Being in the pod,” Wheeljack responds on command and winces.

“Oh,” Starscream says and there’s an automatic understanding there as he averts his gaze from Wheeljack.

Wheeljack leans in to take back what he said or tell Starscream that it’s not his fault but no sound escapes him and they’re left in tense silence. Starscream shivers but doesn’t move otherwise.

“Why is your lab so cold?” Starscream says under his breath, scowling as if to curse the air itself.

Oh, Wheeljack realizes, that must have been it. Now that Starscream had said it, he could feel how truly cold the lab had become which must’ve triggered the nightmare in the first place. How could he not notice?

“You should turn up the temperature in here,” Starscream suggests to him, looking at him again but not bothering to move away.

“Yeah,” Wheeljack agrees with Starscream still in his group who hasn’t tried to move or pull away.

He really should turn on the heat. He should go over to the thermostat and increase the temperature but he doesn’t. His feet remain right where they are with Starscream in his grip, his plating warm to the touch and so real and so unlike his nightmare. Without thinking, he pulls Starscream towards himself and wraps his arms around him, sinking into him and clinging to him like a lifeline. Starscream tenses under him and his senses come back to him in a rush, making him begin to pull back but then he’s being held to Starscream in a vice-like grip. He lets himself relax and held, the warmth from Starscream’s frame slowly but surely chasing his nightmare away.

“This isn’t exactly what I meant but I suppose it works,” Starscream jokes and it’s enough to get Wheeljack to straighten up to level a look at him only for him to smirk playfully.

Wheeljack decides just to shrug it off and take advantage of the situation, as surprising as it is and leans his helm against Starscream’s and watches his smirk falter, briefly turning into a nervous smile before falling flat. Tight and nervous, Starscream watches him carefully as he rests a hand against Wheeljack’s helm.

“Thank you,” Wheeljack whispers and Starscream almost pulls his hand away in surprise.

“Whatever for?”

“For breaking me out of my nightmare,” Wheeljack sighs, fully calming down, “It’s better with you here.”

“Oh,” Starscream says, petting Wheeljack’s helm idly as though he weren’t aware he was doing it, “Anytime.”

“Really?” Wheeljack looks back up, surprised.

Starscream shrugs, “If it’s you I see no problem with it.”

“It’s not as though you’ll be able to be there every time I have a nightmare,” Wheeljack points out but holds his position, unwilling to let go, “That’s just unreasonable.”

“You have my comm frequency,” he says casually as if they weren’t practically cuddling.

Wheeljack doesn’t know what it is about Starscream’s words, but he believes him without a hint of doubt, that Starscream will be there when he calls. The way his optics are glowing softly, the weight of his arms behind his neck, the warmth of his frame… It’s all real and safe, maybe not to anyone else but to him, it is, because it’s for him. There’s something here, something he’d like to say is new but that’s not true. Whatever this is it’s been here for a while and that in of itself is comforting. Even so, the nightmares will come back, he knows that, but now, he’s not alone.

“Always?” Wheeljack asks and he doesn’t even really know what he’s asking but Starscream smiles and he stops worrying about the finer details.