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…Someone had gotten Starscream going again.
Thundercracker put his helm in his hands. He could hardly even tell what the topic of the rant was through all the screeching. Something-something “respect in this damn house,” yadda-yadda “beneath my status to even consider,” etcetera. He really would’ve thought that anyone who’d decided that trying to get on the good side of Vos’ Winglord would’ve done enough research to know that when he got pissy it was in everyone’s best interest to just go along with it until he calmed down enough that actual work could be done.
Unfortunately, one of the delegates from Iacon had not gotten the memo.
Someone had said something insulting, and then when Starscream had asked them to elaborate they’d actually done it, and now here they were. With the screeching.
Momentarily, Thundercracker bemoaned his ability to fly. Throwing himself out the window and hurtling to the street below was sounding more appealing by the minute. Maybe if Starscream got loud enough he’d blow out Thundercracker’s audials and then he wouldn’t have to listen to this scrap anymore. (Then again, probably not-- his decibel threshold was pretty high.)
The Iaconian mechs looked like they’d finally realized the depth of their mistake. One seemed to be making a valiant effort to slide out a side door while no one was paying attention. Despite the fact that it wasn’t really in Vos’s best interest, Thundercracker entertained the idea of encouraging him.
Skyfire, who was sitting way closer to Starscream, had to be feeling it even worse. At least Thundercracker was all the way at the other end of the table. The shuttle was right there, and even spending as much time around Starscream as he did couldn’t prepare a mech for that kind of sheer volume. They were adaptive machines, but not that adaptive. Maybe he’d just gone and turned his audials off. Smart mech.
The volume of Starscream’s tirade ramped up further -- and it was a wonder he hadn’t blown his vocal components-- and Thundercracker was seriously reconsidering his idea of jumping out the window. He probably would’ve done it, too, if Skyfire hadn’t leaned over the exact moment he’d started to move.
Skyfire’s expression, which had been gradually shifting from startled pain to embarrassed horror over the course of Starscream’s rant, had now set itself into a determined scowl. The shuttle leaned over, reached up, and poked Starscream in the back.
Goodbye, Skyfire, we hardly knew thee.
Only his interruption didn’t get him a pointy thruster to the face or unceremoniously hauled off by guards. In fact, Thundercracker belatedly realized once the residual ringing had stopped, Starscream had gone quiet. He’d stopped his shouting right in the middle of a particularly vile curse, eyes wide and staring off into the distance somewhere. A moment later, his helm snapped over to look at Skyfire, but he still didn’t say a word.
Thundercracker, who was an opportunistic mech at his core and not one to waste such a glaring opportunity, stood up and clapped his servos together.
“I think we’re about done here,” he said, waiting briefly to see if Starscream would gather his wits enough to add anything and seriously hoping that he wouldn’t. Primus must have been smiling on him that day, because Starscream remained silent and Thundercracker was able to keep talking. “I’ll contact you at a later point if we decide to consider your offer.”
What had the offer been again? He’d forgotten in the wake of… all that. Ah, whatever, he was pretty sure Starscream had been planning on ghosting the delegates from the start. He didn’t like cavorting with Iacon much.
The delegates, having learned their lesson over the course of the forty-five minute meeting, vacated the room as quickly as they could without bottlenecking the door.
As soon as they were gone, Thundercracker looked back over to Starscream and Skyfire. The latter had moved his hand, setting it back in its spot on his lap where it had been until he’d… done whatever he’d done to make Starscream shut up.
“So,” Thundercracker said, “that could’ve gone better.”
…There was no response. They were just staring at each other. They might have been talking over comms, or doing that weird silent eye contact conversation thing mechs in relationships seemed to be able to do. For Thundercracker, who was not privy to either of these silent forms of communication (and frankly did not want to be), it was extraordinarily awkward.
“So, uh, are… you guys just gonna sit there?” He checked the schedule he had tacked onto his HUD. “There’s a meeting with that guy from Kaon in, like, twenty minutes. Dunno if you… wanted to go over the details of that?”
Still no response.
“Okay I’m just gonna--”
“Kaon!” Starscream said, as though he hadn’t just been having the world’s most awkward staring contest. “Right, Kaon. Him. That guy. I have plans for him, and I need to get something from my labs. I’ll see you at the meeting.”
And then he just strode out of the room. Wings high, optics bright. The picture of a distinguished Winglord.
“What the hell.”
“Sorry,” Skyfire said, sounding genuinely apologetic. That was something Thundercracker liked about him. He wasn’t one for all those machinations and false niceties that Starscream liked to partake in. If he had a problem with you, he said it to your face. He was painfully genuine in everything he did and it was a breath of fresh air when Thundercracker had been working under Starscream for what was the majority of his functioning at this point. “I wouldn’t have, but… I figured he would’ve just kept going and we would’ve been here for hours. Probably missed that meeting, too. Speaking of, I should go get him. He wants to show off the fusion cannon he’s been working on but it’s not done yet and I’m worried he’ll get over-excited and try to use it anyway.”
And then he just left. Without any further explanation.
Screw liking anything about him, they were both terrible.
Thundercracker was still thinking about the meeting’s conclusion long into that evening.
Well, that wasn’t entirely true. He’d actually stopped thinking about it for most of the day, his processor occupied by other more pressing matters. Like stopping Starscream from firing a gun that was both not finished and not able to be fired by a mech with an engine like Starscream’s. That kind of took priority. And
then
he was focused on making sure Starscream’s ego didn’t get too bolstered by that Kaonite’s (probably hollow) praise to the point that he tried to overthrow Iacon and install Vos as the leading power on Cybertron.
And then from there it all kind of just escalated into preventing a combined uprising of flight-frames and the lower class, and suffice it to say Thundercracker had his servos full for most of the afternoon.
Then evening rolled around, and he could finally relax for a while, and the events of earlier cropped up in his mind again.
What had Skyfire done?
Thundercracker debated doing something like checking the room’s security footage and doing some digging. Then he realized that Skyfire would probably just tell him if he asked, so instead of taking the needlessly complicated route he just got up and headed up to their shared room instead.
A knock on the door was met with Skyfire’s light “Come in!” followed by Starscream’s much more whiny “No, it’s probably Thundercracker, he’ll try to get me to do work, don’t let him in.”
Not to be deterred by a little complaining (if he was he would’ve lost his job centuries ago), Thundercracker headed inside. Skyfire, datapad in hand, was seated in what would be an oversized armchair to anyone else but was perfectly suited for a mech of his stature. Starscream was laid out on his front on the berth. It was a bizarrely domestic scene to see the guy who was technically his boss in.
“I know you heard me. I’m not doing any work.”
“I’m not here about work.”
“Oh, good.” Pause. “Why are you bothering us then?”
He sighed. “Curiosity is eating me alive and I’m not gonna be able to get any sleep tonight if I don’t ask. Skyfire, what the hell did you do earlier to make him shut up?”
“Hey--”
“Oh! Right, that. Yeah, sorry. I meant to explain, but I got a little sidetracked.” He put down his datapad, getting up and sitting down next to Starscream. “I knew he was just gonna keep going if no one stopped him, and I knew that you couldn’t and the delegates certainly weren’t going to, so I decided to take measures into my own servos. See, Starscream’s got this sort of… off switch.”
Thundercracker’s audials automatically reset themselves, thinking they must have heard that wrong. “An off switch?”
Starscream pushed himself up onto his arms, expression furious. “Skyfire, don’t you dare tell--”
“Yeah. Not like on an appliance or something, I think that would be a dangerous thing to attach to a living mech even if it could probably be done, but something a little more metaphorical.” He reached over. “Observe.”
“Skyfire, if you don’t stop that right now I swear to Primus I will have you--” The start of what would certainly be another legendary rant comparable to earlier was cut off by Skyfire pressing two digits into a spot right between Starscream’s wings, the exact center of his upper back. Instantly, Starscream dropped to the berth and fell silent, his jaw snapping shut and his optics flickering. Skyfire pressed down a bit harder, and Starscream made a noise that Thundercracker could only really refer to as a dreamy sigh.
It was, for all intents and purposes, extremely disconcerting.
“I don’t know exactly why it happens-- my running theory is some kind of direct link between his tactile sensors and higher processing. A circuit of sorts, interrupted by pressure. Not sure how such a link would’ve been formed, but his frame is surprisingly unique in a lot of really bizarre ways.” Skyfire spoke so clinically, it was hard to believe the mech he was talking about was his boyfriend and not a lab specimen. “Did you know his spark is strong enough to withstand direct electric interference without said interference offsetting its pulse-rate at all?”
Thundercracker, in fact, did not know that. He also did not want to know exactly how they’d figured that out.
“Anyway, I’m working on making a proper thesis about it.” He moved his digits up and down a little, and Starscream stretched out not unlike a cat might with an appropriately feline purr . “I have found it’s remarkably helpful for getting him to be quiet and stop thinking so much.”
“Right,” Thundercracker said, sort of regretting coming up here in the first place. Sating his curiosity was not worth this. “Thanks for telling me.”
“Of course! I’m happy to answer questions. The pursuit of knowledge is always a valiant one in my book. No matter the topic.” He was still rubbing Starscream’s back. Was Thundercracker the only one who found this weird?
“Maybe, uh, don’t do that in the middle of meetings. In the future. It could, uh. Hurt Starscream’s image. Might come off as kinda… unprofessional.” He lowered his voice. “There’s already a lot of rumors flying around that we can’t even hope to quell. It’s best for everyone if we don’t add to them.”
“I’ll keep that in mind,” Skyfire said. Starscream made a weird little pleading sound, stretching out his wings and arching his back, and an uncomfortable warmth settled somewhere in the realm of Thundercracker’s tanks. Actually everything about this was awful and he needed to leave right now. There were certain situations he just did not need to divert any processing power to. “Anything else I can do for you?”
“Nope! I’m good! Bye!” Thundercracker turned on a dime and walked out, ignoring Skyfire’s slightly offended sounding “Oh-- bye,” as well as Starscream’s lascivious “Well, now that he’s gone--” that followed him as he left the room and slammed the door behind him.
That was the last time he went inquiring into either of their personal matters.