Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/13220235.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Graphic_Depictions_Of_Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Transformers_-_All_Media_Types
  Relationship:
      Optimus_Prime/Starscream, Starscream/Overlord, Starscream/Sentinel,
      Pharma/Tarn, Starscream/Megatron, Orion_Pax/Starscream, Orion_Pax/Pharma,
      Starscream/Tarn
  Character:
      Megatron, Starscream, Optimus_Prime, Prowl, Jazz, pharma, Overlord, Tarn
  Additional Tags:
      Shareware, Prostitution, Underage_Prostitution, Film_Noir, Mystery,
      Abusive_Relationships, Unhealthy_Relationships, cops_and_robbers, mafia,
      Spark_Mates, Soulmates, Infidelity, Corruption
  Stats:
      Published: 2017-12-31 Updated: 2018-03-23 Chapters: 17/? Words: 18654
****** Film Noir ******
by VicenteValtieri
Summary
     Orion Pax has been looking forward to the day he would find his spark
     mate for as long as he's been alive, but when said Sparkmate turns
     out to be the spiteful and bitter Starscream, he's more than a little
     disappointed. Love dashed, he turns his resources to his career which
     puts him on the trail of the Decepticons - A mob of dangerous
     criminals and scum with ties to the highest levels of government.
     Starscream knows more than he's letting on, if only they could work
     together.
***** Spark Mate *****
Orion Pax read the words imprinted on his inner thigh again. “It means ‘none of
your business…’” He whispered. The first words his sparkmate was supposed to
say to him and they sounded angry, or offended. Standing up from his berth, he
poured himself a cube of energon and went to the window, musing to himself.
Every Cybertronian had words printed somewhere on their frame: The first words
their sparkmate would say to them. Their perfect match. For every Cybertronian,
there was someone. Someone waiting, reading the words on their frame and
looking up at the sky, waiting. Waiting for that perfect moment of bliss when
they would recognize their sparkmate.
Orion sighed, touching his badge. It was an evening shift tonight: A patrol in
the bad side of town. No chance to walk Iacon, to hope someone might respond to
his query with the snappish response on his thigh. He had tried to imagine who
might belong to the words, who might respond, but it was hard. A hurried femme
having a bad day? Someone who had fallen down and didn’t want help getting up?
He hoped it was someone who could Carry, but it was all right if he or she
couldn’t. Orion was a Sire mech, but they could adopt if necessary.
Not everyone was meant to bring new life into the world.
It couldn’t be one of the Praxian racers, because they were just too small,
incompatible with his own Convoy frame. Ditto Seekers – and who wanted to be
one of their Sparkmates – but maybe he could manage a shuttle or a tank. It
wasn’t likely to be a tank. There were very few in Iacon.
Orion stepped out of his apartment and onto the street, transforming. Time to
pick up his partner and get to work. He thrived on this: Hard work keeping his
city safe, investigating crimes or just patrolling. At the moment, they were
looking for members of the Cartwheels Gang, who were bringing tainted Syk into
the city.
Prowl was waiting when he arrived at the station. “You’re almost late, Orion.
Staring at your sparkmate mark again?”
“You have no romance, Prowl.” Orion replied with a chuckle. “And I wasn’t late
so it doesn’t matter.”
“This obsession with your sparkmate is getting a little ridiculous.” Prowl’s
own spark mark was on his back, a simple statement: “Well, you like music?”
“As if I don’t see you looking over your shoulder at the mirror in the
washracks.” Orion chuckled, nudging Prowl with his tires.
“That’s different!” The police officer protested. “I do not moon over my spark
mark.”
“Hmm… Yeah, you do.”
“Hmph. Let’s just get on patrol.”
They continued to argue as they drove the streets of downtown Iacon, looking
for any sign of the Cartwheels. This was the Red Light District, where dance
clubs, bars, and shareware littered the streets. At the edges were a few
establishments that catered to the police, but for the most part, officers and
investigators were unwelcome intruders into this world of bright lights and
music.
Orion kept his optics peeled, but didn’t see anything as they patrolled. This
was fishing and they new it. The Cartwheels were deep underground. Too deep to
let so much as a pede show on the surface. Of course, the gang had to show
themselves eventually, if only to conduct business. Credits didn’t fall from
the sky.
“This is useless. We’re not going to see anything tonight.” Prowl groaned.
“Unless… We could try going into a few of the clubs, ask some questions.”
“We’d be made as officers before we set foot in them. We need an inside mech.
Someone who can help us.” Prowl hissed softly between his denteas. “If we could
only find a trustworthy dancer or a bartender. Someone who can walk where we
can’t and keep their optics out.”
“Heh. Good luck with that.” Orion snorted. “Everyone here is base scum and
would sell their own mother for a cut of creds.”
“Look out!” Prowl hissed, braking suddenly. A shareware – probably walking to
his corner - had slipped on a patch of icy walkway and fell out into traffic.
Orion’s brakes screeched and he had to pitch himself forward into a
transformation to avoid the Seeker. Standing up, he looked down. The Seeker’s
spark mark was on the back of one wing. Without thinking, he read it aloud.
“What the Pit does that mean…?”
“It means, ‘mind your own business!’” The Seeker screeched back, trying to get
to his pedes. “Racing around like a maniac in this weather… it’s a wonder you
haven’t killed someone.”
“Easy.” Prowl told the Seeker while Orion’s jaw dropped open and his optics
dropped to the writing on his thigh. It was fading into dark blue plating as he
watched. “We’re not looking for trouble.”
“No.” Orion whispered. The Seeker’s mark was disappearing too. “No! Not… Not
you!”
The Seeker hissed, clutching his shoulder where he had fallen. “Believe me, I’m
not charmed either.” He stared up at the convoy, who towered over him. “I had
hoped for a nice mech from Vos.”
“Anyone except you!” Orion snapped, clutching his helm. “A Seeker! And a
Shareware at that!”
“Excuse you! I am a Dancer, not a Shareware!” The Seeker hissed.
Before Orion could retort, Prowl grabbed his arm, looking around at the staring
optics on both of them. “Orion, you are attracting attention.” He hissed. “Get
your mate off the street and scream at him in private.”
“He’s not-“
Prowl shook his helm, deadly serious. “He is.”
“Come on.” Orion hissed, grabbing the Seeker by the arm.
“I am not going anywhere with you until I know your name!” The Seeker began to
struggle. His plating was burning warm beneath Orion’s fingers and a flicker of
arousal shot through the convoy.
“If we delay, we’re not going to make it anywhere decent!” Orion hissed right
back, tugging him along. “And it’s Orion Pax – Detective.”
“Oo, fancy.” The Seeker practically tripped over his own pedes as he stumbled
after the detective. “Starscream, at your service.”
“A name to match a voice.” Orion sniped back as he pulled Starscream onto a
monorail, swiping his ride card.
“You’re not such a prize yourself, brute!” Starscream hissed as he held onto
Orion’s arm. He wasn’t tall enough to reach the servo loops. Orion was sure
they made quite the picture for the other riders as they hissed and growled in
each other’s faceplates. “I can’t go anywhere with you until I tell my
aeriemate where I’m going!”
“Then comm him.” Orion hissed. “But we are not detouring to whatever hovel you
call home so you can tell your aeriemate you’ve found your spark mate.”
Starscream stared out the window, presumably comming his aeriemate. “…Your
Carrier would be scandalized.”
“What would yours think of you working as a Shareware?”
“I told you! I’m a dancer, not a shareware!” Starscream hissed.
“And if I offered you a thousand creds to interface with me?”
The Seeker looked away. “My aeriemate is Carrying and we’re both trying to go
to University. We need the credits.”
“University? For Seekers?” Orion snorted.
“That’s exactly the kind of reaction a small-minded police officer like you
would have.” Starscream resentfully folded his arm over himself. “It’s our
right to try and better ourselves.”
“And look how well that’s gone.”
“Shut up. I didn’t choose you!”
“Neither of us chose the other. Believe me, I would have gone for Prowl over
you.”
“I would have chosen anyone over you!”
“I’m sure. With all the mechs you’ve been with, you’d have plenty to choose
from.”
“Why you-!” Before Starscream could finish the thought, they reached Orion’s
stop and he dragged the Seeker along with him towards his apartment.
They were locked together at the lips almost before he threw open the door and
pulled the Seeker inside.
***** Self-Indulgence 1 *****
Starscream looped a leg around Orion’s waist as the Convoy smeared his
lippaint. “Fragger.” He told him when the kiss broke briefly. In response,
Orion gripped the back of his helm and crushed their lipplates together again.
He was sure to bruise in the morning.
Orion ripped Starscream away from his frame. “Are we going to be compatible?”
He hissed, questioning with the last remnants of his control.
“I’ve been a Shareware for most of my life.” Starscream hissed right back.
“When I was thirteen, my guardians took me and Pharma to be modified for this.
I can handle you.”
Later, when Orion’s processes could take that in, he would probably be
horrified, but for now he was just glad he could sink his spike into the tiny
Seeker without killing him. Their lipplates mashed together again, open this
time and Orion thrust his glossa into Starscream’s mouth, exploring it.
Starscream nipped the tip with his sharp denteas, which made his engine rev.
Orion palmed and petted the Seeker’s wings, pinching the tips. “Do these things
fold down or something? They’re going to get in the way.” He stroked the
bottoms, feeling Starscream arch against him. “Though I’m not arguing with what
they’re doing.”
“Let go of me a minute.” Starscream tripped him back into a chair and braced
his feet, stretching his arms above his head in a way that made his plating pop
open, and emphasized his broad-slung hips and pectoral vents. With a shuddering
click, his wings pulled in against his back.
With Orion seated, Starscream took back control. “Like what you see?” He put on
a lascivious smile, twitching his hips slightly, dancing. “Having a Seeker for
a sparkmate isn’t so bad, you’ll see.”
Orion braced himself against the edges of the chair as Starscream approached.
“I never- I don’t- This isn’t-“
“Conventional?” Starscream leaned into him, setting his servos on Orion’s and
leaning in. “Fantasized? Right? It’s so boring to be that way. You have a
Seeker for a Sparkmate, Orion. Clearly, Primus doesn’t think you should be
conventional.” He let his panels open, spark and array baring itself. “So let
yourself enjoy this – Me.”
Orion’s servos went to the Seeker’s hips. “…No one can know about this. If it
gets out at the precinct, I’ll be ruined.”
“Hmph. Should have known it’d be too much to ask that you not be ashamed of
me.” Starscream undulated his hips, putting himself on display. “We’ll talk
about this later.”
Orion’s optics were locked on the bouncing valve in front of him. It was pale
grey, unlike the rest of his gunmetal protoform, and red and blue biolights
striped it all the way up to his anterior node, which was large and prominent
compared to the valve, and pierced through with a silver ring. A jeweled stud
hung from it. He was fixed with a decidedly unholy desire and he crushed the
Seeker’s lips to his in a hard kiss.
“Oh!” Starscream gasped. “Well, so much for conve-“ He panted and leaned over
the convoy’s shoulders. “Oh, that’s so good!”
Orion gripped Starscream’s aft and grabbed his thighs, pushing them up onto his
shoulders. The Seeker clutched the back of the chair for balance. “Oh! Please!”
Orion shut his optics as his glossa laved the warm, satin surface of the
swelling outer lips. Oh, he had always wanted to do this. Just like a Vosnian
kiss down under, eh? Primus, it was so much better than he imagined. Starscream
bowing and bucking over him, the sweet, thick taste of lubricant coating his
glossa. He could get used to having someone who would let him do this.
The stone from Starscream’s piercing clacked against his denteas and he nipped
it, pulling. There was a cry from above and a spurt of warm fluid dribbled down
his chin. The Seeker’s valve was practically crackling as he neared his
overload. Orion pulled back and straightened Starscream, maneuvering him into
his arms to carry the Seeker to berth.
“Get on your back.” Starscream demanded, kicking out to try and take back
control, pushing Orion down to the berth.
Orion tossed the Seeker down. “Maybe later, hot wings.” He fumbled with his
crotchplate and freed his spike. “For now, I have to get into that aft.”
“Oh, very well.” Starscream got to his servos and knees, pert aft up in the
air, on display and offer. “Don’t worry, I’ve had a cervix cap installed for
forever.”
Orion hesitated when he measured his spike against Starscream’s frame. The head
alone was too big for the Seeker to close his servo around, and it only got
wider near the base.
“What’s the hold-up?” Starscream peered back over his shoulder.
“I’m…” Orion settled down on the side of the berth. “Huge.”
“You know, normally mechs have this reaction when they realize they’re too
small. Let me get a look at the goods.” Starscream blew out a vent, sitting up
and twisting slightly. “Besides, I thought you were too deep into spark-call to
think.”
Orion muttered under his breath. “It’s not like that. I just… I’ve tried this
before. With someone else, and they couldn’t handle it.”
“Well, you’re a very good size for a Convoy.” Starscream licked the tip of his
spike and nibbled it a little, testing the ridges. “A healthy specimen, but not
impossible. I had a tank who was twice your size once: He was a stretch near
the danger zone, but you? Shouldn’t be too much of a problem. Just enough girth
right here-“ He patted the base of said spike “To make this absolutely
delicious.”
Orion pounced on the Seeker, rolling him onto his back, and measured how deep
his spike could go against the Seeker’s abdomen. Starscream laughed softly.
“Seeing how you measure up? Go on, don’t keep me waiting any more. I feel this
as badly as you do. C’mon. Pretty please?”
Orion groaned, lifted Starscream’s hips, and toyed with the head of his spike
between those plush lips. When he found a good angle, he began pressing in.
With a moan, he began pistoning in and out slowly, getting deeper everytime.
Starscream’s array transformed a little more with each thrust, opening itself
up to the invader.
“Oh!~” Starscream trilled suddenly. “More! I won’t break!”
Orion’s engine growled and he picked the Seeker up, physically pulling him up
and down his spike, not interested in prolonging this too much.
“Please!” Starscream hissed, pulling himself close to Orion and undulating his
hips over him, writhing like he was trying to pull overload from himself. “Yes!
There! Harder!”
Orion obeyed, unleashing his engines on the Seeker, who howled in pleasure and
overloaded hard over his spike. As the valve’s calipers rolled, pulling
overload from him, Orion exploded and filled Starscream’s internals with his
transfluid.
Orion gently laid Starscream down on the berth and settled down next to him. He
didn’t agree with Primus’s choice for him. In fact, he thought it was downright
stupid, but… Starscream was dynamite in the sack, that was for certain. Even if
he was sure to come with all sorts of problems, and perhaps they should talk…
Starscream was asleep. He had curled up in Orion’s arm and just went to sleep.
With a sigh, Orion pulled the covers up around them, trying to avoid the damp
spot. Whether he was faking or not, he was cute when he was quiet.
***** The Morning *****
In the morning, Orion woke first. Sliding out of berth, he made for the
washracks and turned the water up to hot. Normally, people took a week off when
they found their sparkmate, but he didn’t have time for that with the
Cartwheels on the loose. Not to mention his sparkmate… wasn’t exactly someone
he wanted to take a week off and spend more time with, unless they could find a
better use for his mouth and grating voice than talking.
Orion picked up a bottle of cleanser and a cloth and began working it into the
seams of his helm. For a moment, the only sound in the world was the shower
running.
The door opened and someone slipped into the washracks with him, snuggling into
his side. “You left me in a cold berth alone? Shame on you…” Ugh. That voice
was nasty. How had he managed to finish with that in his audials?
“I didn’t want to wake you. I have to go to work.” Orion cleaned his audials
carefully, letting the fabric dull Starscream’s reply.
“Work? But… We just met each other…” He frowned and crossed his arms. “Fine. I
guess I have University classes today anyway.”
“You were serious about that?” Orion gave him a side-long glance.
“I am this close to graduating!” Starscream held a thumb and forefinger
together. “Two more weeks to go!”
“And who’s going to hire you when you graduate?” Orion hoped he had managed to
muffle that snort.
“I’ve applied for a few research grants. I’m sure something will come up. With
my work, how can they refuse me? I’m graduating with degrees in Physics,
Engineering, and Chemistry!” The Seeker exclaimed.
Orion didn’t want to be hurtful, so he kept quiet. “Anyway, don’t you have a
whatchamacallit to bring up to speed?”
“An aeriemate. It’s like a cousin.” Starscream explained, snatching the bottle
of cleanser from Orion and lathering some up to run down his back. He traced
Orion’s seams with his claws, scraping them out. “And speaking of… May I bring
Pharma here to live with us? He’s very quiet, so he won’t bother us, and he’s
graduating soon as well, but there’s the sparkling and then he wants to go to
medical school…”
“Ugh. Starscream, I hate to say this, but I have a processor ache. Bring Pharma
over, there’s a guest room he can have, but by Primus – Shut up!” Orion
clutched his helm. Fortunately, Starscream went silent almost at once and
stepped noticeably away, giving Orion’s circuits time to recover. “... I’m
sorry. I didn’t mean it like that.”
Starscream touched his Vox Box, working his throat carefully, then spoke in a
much softer and more soothing tone, though it was full of hurt. “I think you
meant it exactly like that.”
“…I’m sorry.”
“I’m sorry too. I guess neither of us is going to get what we want.” Starscream
sighed, turning his faceplates up into the solvent spray. The markings on his
faceplates came off, pouring down the drain like the paint they were. Orion
took a moment to study his faceplates.
“Why do you paint your face like that? You’re handsome the way you are. I’d
even say beautiful.” He tried for a compliment.
“In an Interface club, you have to be careful.” Starscream replied. “You have
to stand out, or no one pays attention to you. I have a whole array of costumes
I’ve made for myself, and I create my own cosmetic paints. It’s all part of the
show.”
“Uh-huh. So… I’m a police officer. A detective.”
“Primus, we’re from different worlds.” Starscream sighed. “In Vos, being a
Shareware doesn’t come with the stigma it does here. It can be high-paying,
even powerful. Pharma and I, though… We wanted more. We wanted an education.”
His voice was slipping, rasping slightly at the edges. He brought it under
control.
“So, you were modified for this… at thirteen?”
Starscream shrugged, shaking out his wings to let the solvent run through the
seams. “Best time for it. The mods take better and it’s safer over all.”
Orion glanced at him. “You didn’t want it, did you?”
“No, we didn’t, but it didn’t matter. Our parents were Shareware and we have
cousins and siblings who still are.” Starscream leaned a bit back into Orion’s
personal space and stretched, brushing their frames together in just the right
way to kick-start some of Orion’s drives. “And knowing who you turned out to
be, it’s probably a good thing.”
Orion turned and pressed Starscream into the shower wall. “Probably.” He kissed
the Seeker and ran his lipplates between his denteas, nibbling, but not biting.
Starscream tasted like energon and interface: Sweet and spicy with a touch of
something clean.
Starscream panted softly, running one heel up the back of Orion’s leg while the
Convoy hoisted him up into the air, locking his legs behind his aft. “Ah!
You’re so… tall.” He muttered something and dug his faceplates into Orion’s
neckcables, nibbling.
“And you’re tiny.” Orion retorted, leaning down to get his mouth on the
Seeker’s wing. “Primus must have lost his entire damn processor to match us.”
“Either that, or he knew you’d like a valve that’s always tight.” Starscream
retorted, pressing his interface flush to Orion’s and letting his panel open,
his valve leaving a lubricant-wet kiss on Orion’s own. “Come on, we don’t have
a lot of time.”
“No, we don’t.” Orion checked his chronometer. They might have just enough. He
released his spike and let it find its place inside of Starscream’s plush lips.
The Seeker’s hot valve transformed and opened up again, more quickly this time
now that his frame knew what to expect.
Starscream braced himself on the convoy’s shoulders and began rocking his hips
side to side as Orion thrust, spiraling them when he could. “Ah! Ah, Orion,
this is perfect…” He moaned into the Convoy’s audial, sex-rich voice sinfully
hot and breathy.
Orion grunted and groaned softly, responding to his mate’s pleasure, servos
locked on the Seeker’s tight aft and squeezing, engine roaring as he pounded
into the tight flyer and bit down on his wing, denting the place. He stilled,
kissing the bite mark almost in apology as Starscream relaxed slowly against
him and leaned onto his windshield, laying his helm against the convoy’s
shoulder. Orion stroked his spinal strut and cuddled him, forgetting for a
moment everything horrid about him. The shower carried away the scent and
evidence of their coupling, the sharp, dark dent on Starscream’s wing the only
thing left.
When Orion set him down, Starscream was running his claws through the convoy’s
seams, pulling out lines of muck that brushes just couldn’t reach as well as a
careful Seeker. “There you go.” Starscream kissed his lipplates, going up on
tip-pede and pulling himself the rest of the way, bracing against his
shoulders. “Now I won’t be ashamed to be seen with you.”
Orion looked down at him, and pushed the Seeker away. “We will never be seen
together. Never.” What was he going to tell his Creators when they inevitably
came and found a Seeker in his home? Two Seekers at that.
Starscream stood under the shower as Orion dried off and he was still standing
there when Orion grabbed his kit and walked out the door. When he heard the
front door slam, Starscream finally stepped out to dry himself off and examine
himself in a mirror that was hung so high it made him feel like a child. He
didn’t belong in this apartment, it was clearly built for convoys, but this was
home now.
***** The Badge *****
As Starscream was heading out the door, his optics fell on a Detective’s badge.
“Oh, Slag.”
 
Orion made it to work and signed in. Prowl was surprised to see him. “Orion? I
thought you would be taking time off.”
“I would rather take time off when I have a vacation I want to go on.”
Continuing around Prowl towards his desk, Orion pulled out the Cartwheels
casefile from a passing cart and snapped it open to study it again. “We just
need a lead.”
“Orion, no, you can’t just leave your spark mate alone in the apartment while
you-“ Prowl chased after him, trying to talk to the Hero Cop as they were
going.
“I would prefer it if you didn’t mention my spark mate at work, Prowl, or at
all, if you can help it.” Orion instructed, turning into his cubicle and
sitting down at the desk. “The last thing I need is that getting out.”
Fortunately, it seemed that his habit of coming in early was going to work for
him again. The beat cops were at assignment and the detectives were grabbing
coffee in the break room.
“You’re not- Orion, you’re not seriously ashamed of your spark mate?” Prowl
leaned over his desk. “You’ve met your other half, and –“
“Prowl. Shush. I don’t want to talk about this.” Orion pinched his digits
together. “Get me a coffee and a cigarette if you can find one.”
“You kicked that habit!” Prowl hissed at him. “I don’t understand you: You met
your sparkmate, and it’s destroying you! You should be happy!”
“Well I’m not!” Orion stood up and shouted at his Praxian partner. “He’s
nothing I would ever want! Nothing I would ever associate with! He’s scum of
the earth and the lowest of the low and I would as soon frag a diseased,
rusting-“
Starscream was in the door to his cubicle, holding a box and Orion’s badge.
“Uhhh…” Orion’s processor went blank.
“You left your badge on the front table, and you didn’t take a lunch. I’ve made
you two sandwiches and put a pear in there. Your refrigerator is practically
empty, by the way, I’ve written a shopping list and I’ll take care of it
tomorrow, but don’t expect much for dinner when you get home.” Starscream
handed over the box and the badge. “I hope you choke on it.”
“Thanks, sweetheart.” Orion heavily set the box on his desk and pinned his
badge on.
“Now, if there’s nothing else you need, I’ll go back to associating with the
lowest of the low and the scum of the earth.” Starscream nodded to Prowl. “See
you this evening, darling.” He walked away sedately, folded wings slightly
rattling with every step.
Orion watched him go, then sat down heavily in his chair. “That would have
been… embarrassing.”
“If he was as selfish and hateful as you are, it would have been.” Prowl
snapped. “Forgetting your badge, abusing your spark mate… This isn’t like you,
Orion. Where’s the mech who was dreaming of Starscream before you even knew who
he was?”
“I found out who he was, and it turns out that Primus is making a joke of me.”
Orion hissed. “When I had him sunk down on my spike this morning, I could
hardly hunch over to kiss him.”
“Too much information, Orion!” Prowl sighed, rubbing his nasal vent. “You spend
all your life mooning over your spark mark and now you’ve been handed a package
you didn’t expect and you’re pouting like a child who didn’t get a Red Rider BB
Gun for Christmas! Why don’t you try opening the package to see what’s inside
before you throw it out?”
“Prowl. I would kindly like you to get me a damn cup of coffee and let me work
my case!” Orion bellowed.
Prowl backed off, shooting a glare over his shoulder, and Orion went back to
leafing through the casefile. Damnable Seeker. Who did he think he was? Ugh. He
should have been nicer to him. After all, he brought him a lunch and his badge
when he left the damn thing behind. Ugh. He’d find a way to make it up to the
bloody Seeker. What did Shareware like? Shiny things? Fine, he could find
something shiny. Maybe he’d even go shopping and find some groceries to bring
home. Make the mother hen happy, if that was possible.
Ugh. And he wouldn’t smoke. Not in front of Prowl at least, though he could go
for one right about now. A Royal without the filter. Another thing he’d pick up
on the way home that evening. Prowl couldn’t complain about his vices if they
were conducted in privacy, in his own home.
Orion reached into his desk and pulled out a stick of gum, stuffing it between
his denteas. It wasn’t a cigarette, but it would tide him over.
It was an unproductive and thoroughly lousy day. When he got out onto the
street, he headed for the corner grocery to pick up a pack before heading
towards one of the old Pawn shops in the East End. Something sparkly and
affordable? He was bound to find it there.
Orion tried to light up one of the cigarettes as he was walking, but when he
reached into his pockets for a lighter, he found he couldn’t find one. Bloody
hell! Another thing he must have forgotten on his way out the door. Blast it to
Pit. Stuffing the cigarette back into the package, he rammed it back into his
pocket and continued on down the lane with his servos in his pockets and the
brim of his hat pulled low over his optics. No one needed to see what a bad
mood he was in: He was Iacon’s Hero Cop. People expected things of him. He had
an image to maintain. Nothing would kill that better than snapping at someone
for offering him a friendly greeting. Except, perhaps, having a Seeker
Shareware for a Spark mate.
***** Swindle's Place *****
Starscream met Pharma at the University Campus. The other Seeker was hunched
over on a bench, wrapped up in a trench coat and stroking his cockpit.
Starscream couldn’t blame them. The Dean was an animal. If he ever caught wind
of what they did to keep frame and spark together, they’d be out before
graduation, and they were this close, as Starscream had told Orion. “How did it
go?” Pharma stood up, eagerly.
“What are you doing here, Pharma? You don’t have classes today.” They had
arranged it that way, so someone could mind their tiny apartment and they would
have privacy while they did homework.
“I had to see you and I knew you wouldn’t want to come back to the apartment
until the evening to pick up your things.” Pharma hurried along after
Starscream. “And it’s so cold in that apartment. It’s better to be here, for
the sparkling.”
“I’m not going to argue that.” Starscream sighed. “But you won’t ever have to
go back to that old apartment again, Pharma. I’ve found my sparkmate, and he’s
going to let you have a home with us.”
“Oh, no, I couldn’t intrude like that. This is your honeymoon time!” Pharma was
taller than Starscream by a few inches, with deep blue optics that contrasted
with Starscream’s red.
Starscream snorted. “What honeymoon? I have the sparkmate no one could ever
want, Pharma. He hates me.”
“No!” Pharma gave him a shocked look. “That can’t be!”
“According to him, I am the scum of the earth, the lowest of the low, and he
would rather frag a rusting, diseased skiv.” Starscream sighed. “But he’s a
Detective with a good-sized apartment and a spike that’s pretty much perfect.”
“I knew it couldn’t be all bad.” Pharma leapt on it, hugging his aeriemate.
“And soon we’ll be graduating. Can you imagine what it would be like? To wear a
cap and gown and walk up to the front, to receive our diplomas?”
“It’s too expensive, Pharma. We’ll be getting our diplomas by post after
finals, you know that. No commencement for us, unfortunately.” Starscream
sighed. “Can you imagine that? Just letting them see a pair of Seekers right
there among all the stupid noble slag-suckers.”
“I know.” Pharma sighed wistfully. “But just getting our diplomas will be good
enough. You’ll be able to get a real job, Starscream, and I’ll be accepted to
medical school.”
“All our dreams, coming true.” Starscream sighed. “We’ll find your sparkmate
soon, your sparkling will be born…”
“And we’ll be able to work while they go to school and then walk home down easy
street with our heads held high.” Pharma replied.
“But for now, you should go home and pack our things. I’ll come get you after
classes.” Starscream nuzzled his cousin’s cheek and Pharma nuzzled him back.
“See you.”
“Bye, Starscream.” Pharma fluttered his wings as he left and Starscream headed
into the University.
 
The Pawn Shop Orion chose was Swindle’s place. Mostly because Swindle owed him
a favor and a spoiled Shareware like Starscream wasn’t going to be easy to
please. He’d have an optic for fakery after surrounding himself with it for so
long. Especially if he was really graduating with degrees in “Physics,
Engineering, and Chemistry.” Orion still had doubts about that story. It just
seemed outlandish.
But he could get more than just a string of something shiny here at Swindle’s
place. He could get information too, if the underhanded black marketer was in a
good mood. Information on Starscream, probably. Perhaps, if he was lucky,
information on the Cartwheels.
Swindle was a greasy little fellow who turned into an old transport and wore
far too much greasy polish. He thought it made him look debonair, but it marked
him out for a smooth talker far, far too easily. He was big-time, though, and
if Orion ever got a whiff of solid evidence on his larger crimes, he would nail
the little fast-talker to the wall.
The Pawn Shop was tiny and dusty. It felt oppressive and the air was thick.
“Orion. How’s my favorite gumshoe?” Swindle looked up from a necklace –
probably stolen – that he was evaluating.
“Sick and tired.” Orion leaned on the counter and offered him a cigarette. “Got
a light?”
“If the tobacco’s on you, the light’s on me.” Swindle pulled out a heavy,
antique lighter and flicked it on, lighting his cigarette before he passed it
to Orion to light his own. After a few drags, he waved the burning stick. “So,
what brings you into my fine establishment, Orion? Need to trade a valuable for
easy cash? Or looking to trade cash for some information?”
“Two items of business actually. First, the Cartwheels. What do you know about
them?” Orion slid a credit chip towards Swindle. These bribes he wrote off as
“Incidentals” on his financial report at the end of the month when he made an
accounting for what he did with the department’s money.
Swindle picked up the chip and flipped it between his digits. “Low-lifes and
scum bringing in some impure syk. I know where they’re hiding.”
“That was easy. What’s the catch?” Orion took another drag on his Royal.
“No catch. You take ‘em out and it does a friend of mine a favor. No one
profits off of impure syk in the underworld. It just means there’s fewer skivs
out there to buy.”
“Fine. I’ll take what I can get, I suppose. The second item of business:
Shareware called Starscream. What do you know about him?” He tapped out a
second cigarette for Swindle, who smoked like it was a race and he had bets on
himself.
“Hmph. Saucy kind. Dynamite in the sack. Once paid two hundred credits to see
what the fuss was about. Would do it again if I was ever near his club, but he
insists that he’s just a Dancer now. Dunno what changed. Maybe it was his
cousin getting knocked up with a customer.” Swindle took another drag. “Dances
at a place called the Gilded Wing. It’s one of those half-decent joints where
the high-rollers come to party. Doesn’t get paid well, though, for all that
he’s one of the main attractions. Hazards of being a Seeker. Let me tell you,
he has this display with a massive false spike that can make you squirt in your
panel if you watch it.”
That sounded like an Interface club to Orion. If Swindle’s description was
accurate, it was the kind where the people with disposable income came to get
revved off and had back rooms where the dancers did a different kind of
performing. “That kind of dancer, huh. He involved in any of the gangs?”
“Only in the sense that the mechs who can afford him liked to rent out that hot
aft for the evening or drag him out to events to show off. He rakes in top
dollar, but doesn’t see much of the take unless it’s an escort job. His club
manager is cheating him, but what else is new? Seems to me he’s living a double
life, trying to make better on himself and doesn’t want to make waves ‘cause
he’s got too much to lose. He goes to the University, takes classes. Real smart
cookie. Could go far someday, with a run of good luck.”
“Right. Sure.” Orion passed Swindle another chip. “As if. He’s a Seeker and
this is Iacon.”
“You never know. Sometimes things shake out just right.” Swindle pointed out.
“Just a warning, don’t play cards with him. I can’t tell if he cheats or he’s
just too good, but he never loses.”
“I’ll keep it in mind.” Orion looked down into the case of jewelry beneath him.
“Ah, I just got some new pieces up for sale if you’d like to see.” Swindle put
on his salesman grin and brought out the pallets of jewelry. “Perfect for your
Carrier, or a colleague. Or… if you have a bit of sweetness on the side, while
you’re waiting for that perfect match…”
“Something like that.” Orion cast an optic across the necklaces. “Nothing
expensive. I’m a cop, not a politician.”
“You could be, if the mood ever struck you. Pit, I’d vote for you. I get the
feeling you’d actually try to keep your campaign promises.” Swindle picked up a
cameo pendant. “This is a nice piece right here. Vosnian Cameo. Hand-carved. I
could let it go for… Oh, say two hundred creds.”
Orion cast an optic over the carved pendant. It was detailed and hung on a gold
chain, but two hundred creds? “Swindle, we’ve known each other too long for
this. That thing isn’t worth fifty and you know it.”
“You wound me! This is genuine gold here, and the detail is fine as can be.”
Swindle held the cameo up to the light, what little there was.
A Vosnian cameo… Starscream was a Seeker from Vos. He might appreciate that,
but with Swindle on the warpath to get the price up, he’d have to manage this
carefully. “Right. Whatever. I’m looking for something a bit more sparkly than
a cameo anyway.” Orion looked back down at the pallet. “What about that one
with the gemstones arranged in a starburst?”
“Genuine Zircon, my friend!” Swindle rubbed his servos together. “It’s worth
one hundred and fifty creds, but just because you’re one of my favorite
gumshoes, I’ll let it go for one hundred.”
Orion made a soft sound of disbelief. “Uh-huh. One hundred for Zircon, Swindle?
You’re reaching.”
“I’ll throw in the cameo as well!” Swindle must have bought the zircon pendant
for less than twenty creds if he was willing to throw that deal together, but
Orion was already tired of this game.
“Fine. The Zircon and the Cameo for one hundred creds.” It was a hefty sum, but
he would get nothing better from the slag-sucking fence. “See you around,
Swindle.”
“See you, Orion. Have fun with your sweetness.” Swindle smirked at his back as
he left, trailing his second cigarette behind him.
Orion sighed and headed for the corner grocery, counting his digits and limbs
to be sure they were all there. Frag Swindle.
***** Pharma's Aft *****
Starscream opened the door to Orion’s apartment using the spare key he had
found in the kitchen. “Come in then, Pharma. Looks like Orion isn’t home yet.”
“I’ll be glad to put these boxes down.” Pharma stamped his pedes clear of the
ice. “How are we so poor, but we have so much junk, Starscream?”
“We’re not poor, Pharma, we have to be careful with money, and we have so much
junk because we don’t throw anything useful away.” Starscream reminded him,
carrying a bag of canned food into the kitchen to stock it in the empty pantry
shelves. Orion was not good at feeding himself, either that or he ate at cafes
rather than home. “Just put it down on the table. We’ll sort through what
should go into the Master bedroom and what needs to find a different place.”
“Are you going to the club this evening, Starscream?” Pharma questioned as they
unpacked Starscream’s array of cosmetics and tools. Pharma’s had been folded
over into the younger Seeker’s collection when he had sparked. It was too
dangerous to work in his condition.
“I suppose I will. No reason not to.” Starscream sighed. “Work will keep me out
of Orion’s way.”
“He doesn’t really hate you… does he, Starscream?”
“I don’t know, Pharma. I think he can’t get used to the fact that I’m a
Seeker.” Starscream picked out his jewelry. It was paste and resin, sparkly,
but nothing real. Now that he had a mate and they wouldn’t have to pay for that
apartment alone, perhaps he could save his pennies for something truly elegant.
“That isn’t fair to you! You can’t help that you’re a Seeker, just like he
can’t help he’s a convoy!” Pharma fussed over his cockpit, which was slightly
more forward than normal since Pharma was in the last stage of Carrying.
“I know it isn’t fair!” Starscream snapped at Pharma. “It is what it is,
though, and we all have to live with it because we can’t change it. Maybe he’ll
warm up to me, but for now, all I want is to graduate, not make waves, and get
fragged every morning and evening by one of the best spikes of my life!”
Pharma cowered. “I’m sorry, Starscream. I was just trying to be sympathetic…”
“No, I’m sorry, Pharma.” Starscream wearily sighed. “Why don’t you see if you
can find something to make for dinner? I’m starving.” He gathered up his things
and carried them into the Master bedroom to find places for them.
Pharma poked around the kitchen, finding a few pears and some other fresh food,
but it was mostly the stuff he and Starscream had brought in cans.
 
Orion came through the door with a bag of groceries on one hip and struggling
with his keys with the other, cursing under his breath. He dropped his badge
onto the table and struggled out of his trench coat with one arm, hanging the
hat on its hook.
When he had finally taken off and tucked away his kit, Orion headed into the
kitchen only to find an angel’s aft poking out of the pantry. It wasn’t
Starscream’s tight backside, it was a larger, suppler one. When the rest of the
person straightened up, Orion realized that this had to be Pharma. He was
tricolor like Starscream, but had blue optics and was taller than his cousin.
He was at kiss-height, which surprised Orion and he was lovely.
Pharma yelped when he spotted Orion. “Who are you?”
“Orion. Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you. I wasn’t expecting Starscream’s
cousin to be…” He gestured to the closet. “Where is Starscream?”
“Starscream went to put his things in your berthroom.” Pharma explained,
stacking some cans on the counter. “Oh, groceries! Thank you!” He dug into the
bag, finding what Orion had bought and putting it away in various corners of
the kitchen, hips swinging freely, jauntily as he walked. Then, Starscream made
his reappearance.
“Orion.” Starscream was still miffed about the comments Orion had made about
him to Prowl. He showed this by stoutly ignoring Orion.
Orion, who had been in deep contemplation of Pharma’s aft, found his attention
re-directed. There was something addicting about Starscream and his presence
that Pharma simply didn’t have. Probably the spark call.
***** The Cameo *****
Orion followed Starscream back to the bedroom after Starscream had gathered up
the last of his vanity supplies and carried them into the master washracks.
“Starscream… About this morning.” Orion hated apologizing. He reached into his
pocket and found one of the pagckages Swindle had wrapped up. “Look, I
shouldn’t have been complaining about you to Prowl.”
“Is this an apology?” Starscream coldly asked, keeping his back turned as he
arranged his cosmetics. He had filled old cosmetic containers with each of his
own blends. Powder form glossy was less elegant than the spray-form, but it did
its job. Starscream made a note to repurpose or build a proper vanity for
himself as he stood at the counter, opening his glossy container and picking up
the poof, batting it against his faceplates more aggressively than was
necessary.
“Uhh… Well, sorta… I mean…” Orion sighed, pinching his nasal vent.
Starscream looked at him in the mirror and sighed, picking up his favorite
blended lippaint and scraping the applicator brush against the lip: A bright,
shimmering red. “Our relationship is going to be very complicated if we can’t
apologize to each other.”
“I just… Look, I don’t always think before speaking. Yesterday has been… a
disappointment all around and I’d like it if we could just forget this
morning.” Orion offered Starscream the package.
“Hmph. I’ll take that as an apology.” Starscream opened the package and the
jewelry case. “Oh…”
“Yeah. Do that.” Orion turned away, laying out his kit on his dresser. “I know
it’s not much, but I-“ He was tackled from the side by an amorous Seeker with a
cameo around his neck.
“It’s perfect, Orion, thank you.” Starscream kissed him hard. “A Vosnian cameo…
where did you get this?”
“It was just a trinket I found in a pawn shop.” Orion kissed the Seeker back,
servos coming up to support his hips as Starscream’s pedes dangled. He hadn’t
meant to give the Seeker the cameo instead of the zircon pendant, but it seemed
like Primus was giving him a helping hand if it appealed to Starscream so much.
“Nothing special.”
Starscream hissed and his wings fluttered. “You have no idea how special this
is. It’s a spark-carved cameo. It was made by someone who loved another person
so much they had to express it using their very spark.”
“How on earth did it end up in a two-bit pawn shop?”
“I don’t know. It wouldn’t have any value to those who don’t know what it is.”
Starscream kissed him again, deeply. “And I suppose that includes you, but
still… Thank you.”
Orion stroked his servos up and down Starscream’s back, encouraging his wings
to fold before he stumbled back and pinned the Seeker to the berth. That same
addictive quality was at work again and he wanted the Seeker open and begging.
There was something about Starscream that made Orion want to possess him. His
spike throbbed when he got the Seeker on his back, pinning him to the berth by
the shoulders. Starscream’s servos were wandering and pinching at his plating,
claws dipping in to pluck at his wires. Orion was suddenly very aware of how
lethal Starscream could be if he chose it.
It only made it so much hotter when he leaned down again and claimed his lips
in a ferocious kiss, feeling Starscream’s legs spread open beneath him.
Later, he kept an arm wrapped possessively around the Seeker as he pulled from
a Royal. He had found his lighter and ash tray just where he had left them, in
the top drawer of his bedside table. Starscream was leaned into Orion with his
optics half closed.
Orion looked down at him, cigarette hanging from two fingers. With care, he
offered it to Starscream, placing it at the Seeker’s lipplates. Starscream
nodded and took a deep drag on the Royal, exhaling the smoke expertly through
his nasal vents. One servo was still playing with the cameo around his neck.
“I have to go.” Starscream sighed, panels rearranging and sitting up.
“Go?” Orion turned to look at him, finishing off the cigarette in a final drag
and stubbing out the butt in the tray.
“I have work this evening. I’ll be back at about the fourth hour.” Starscream
wiped himself down and touched his paint up, gathering a few of the tubes and
the box of powdered glossy into his subspace. He kept his costumes at the
interface club where he worked. There was a moment when he clearly considered
taking his cameo off, but he left it hanging around his neck after considering
further.
“…I thought you would give it up.” Orion frowned.
“I don’t like it, but I’m going to keep working.” Starscream spritzed himself
with some scents. “At least until I find a proper job in research.”
Orion snorted and sat up more against the headboard, lighting another Royal.
“Right. Research. I’ll be in recharge when you get back.”
“Then I’ll see you in the morning. I don’t have classes tomorrow, but I have to
study for finals.” Starscream picked up his wallet and took out a few credits
for a busfare.
“Hey.” Orion took out his metrocard and flicked it at the Seeker. “Use this. I
have a spare.”
Starscream looked down at the small card and then slid it into a secret
compartment in his wrist. “Thank you. See you in the morning.”
“See you.” Orion finished smoking his Royal and stood up, going back out into
the apartment proper.
Pharma was still cooking dinner. He looked up when Orion came in and sat at the
breakfast bar. “Starscream just left.”
“He told me.” Orion watched Pharma working. “So, you’ve been together for a
long time?”
“We’ve been almost as close as siblings since we were sparklings.” Pharma
explained. “Starscream’s been taking care of me ever since we met. He’s younger
than I am, but he’s always been… bolder. More mature. He wants so badly to
further scientific research. I’m so glad he’s found his spark mate now. He
deserves to be happy.”
“Yeah… spark mate.” Orion looked down at his servos, tapping. “What are you
making?”
“Just some canned beef hash.” Pharma explained. “Starscream’s a better cook
than I am, but I like to help out around the house because he works so hard.”
“Yeah… Shareware.” Primus, this was depressing.
“He’s a Dancer now. Just a dancer.” Pharma defended his aeriemate.
“It doesn’t matter. Look, I don’t want to hear more about… Starscream right
now. What about you?”
“There’s not much to tell. I’m graduating soon. I hope to go to medical school
afterwards. I’ve always wanted to be a surgeon.”
“Why? Seems like it’s nasty work.”
“So that I could heal people.” Pharma explained. “I want to help others to
regain their strength more quickly.” He scooped out a spoonful of the hash and
added it to a spoonful of mushy steamed vegetables from a pot. “There we go.
Dinner. I hope it’s good.” He handed Orion a spoon before making a plate for
himself.
The vegetables were practically flavorless and the has was burned. If
Starscream had spent so long eating this, no wonder his figure was flawless.
Orion looked up and cast the quieter Seeker a smile. “It’s delicious.”
***** Tarn's Offer *****
Starscream sighed when he teeked the moisture in the air and he ran to keep
from getting wet to the metro pick-up. The monorail was so nice compared to the
bus and he swiped the card Orion had given him with pride. Watching the city
pass from up here, in environmentally controlled comfort, was amazing. He had
never seen it like this before.
Starscream settled into one of the smooth seats for the journey. He was far,
far too short for the servoloops hanging from the ceiling. Settling in, he
folded his servos in his lap and wished he had brought something to read.
Giving the monorail car a lazy look, he took in the other mechs who were
riding. There was a lavender femme Convoy sitting with her nose in a book right
next to a bright red Praxian racer who had an open newspaper over his
faceplates. Neither were looking up from their entertainment. There were a few
other convoys and one massive tank who was delicately holding another Convoy’s
servo. A brief scan of their armor didn’t show any spark marks, but they
weren’t curled together like most spark mates did.
Starscream felt a brief surge of longing and went back to staring at the
cityline. The monorail slowly filled and the Seeker was glad that Orion’s
apartment was so far from the Red Light District. He wouldn’t have been able to
get a seat otherwise. Some of the other passengers – mostly Convoys who had to
stand – stared at him angrily, but there was a perfectly massive shuttle mech
who had sat down at his side early on in the journey and they didn’t dare say
anything.
Starscream finally stepped off of the monorail at its final stop. Most of the
other passengers were getting off with him. Taking a back route, he reached his
club and dressed himself up for the evening’s work. He was feeling sassy
tonight: Time for La Dama Roja to make an appearance.
Starscream opened his locker. Each dancer had one to store their dancing
clothes in. No one had anything particularly nice, not at this club, but
everyone had their own style. The up-and-coming dancers were able to buy their
costumes new, but they were transients. Going other places. Starscream, on the
opposite end of the spectrum, made his costumes out of literal trash. Other
dancers bought, borrowed, and traded for theirs, but Starscream had taken the
crafty, cheap route. He recycled everything from basic masks to shards of glass
to create his costumes.
The La Dama Roja costume was a red-painted mask with matching feathers and a
red and black crocheted winged fringe. He had unraveled the yarn for the fringe
from a blanket too old and ratty to be useful and he and Pharma had woven it
together. It was his favorite for that reason and his longest lasting. By now,
La Dama had her own personality, unlike his other costumes.
La Dama Roja was a crowd pleaser when she appeared, but Starscream didn’t often
appear in this costume because he didn’t want its novelty to wear off. She took
to the pole brazenly, but turned her back to the audience so that her best
antics were invisible to them at first. She’d spin occasionally and dip, but
she liked to keep them guessing at what she was doing. Perhaps it was her
confidence and her shyness playing hot and cold with them, but the onlookers
really enjoyed it when she showed off. It felt like more eyes were on
Starscream than any other time when he did this.
And there were optics on him. He could feel them, even when he passed behind
the curtain after his show. He still had to walk the floor, carry drinks from
the bar to tables, but he wouldn’t have to get back up on stage until the end
of the evening, and he felt like he would be in a sleepy, blue mood by then.
Taking off the mask for La Dama and pulling the fringe off, he stowed them in
his locker and shut the door soundly. When he turned, he nearly jumped out of
his plating. There was a large, heavy-built, and instantly recognizable mech
standing in the dressing room. Tarn had come to pay Starscream a visit.
Starscream froze. “Tarn.” He forced his vox box not to screech. “What brings
you back here?”
“I’m looking to recruit someone.” Tarn was holding a smoking cigarette in one
servo. “Why don’t you sit down with me and talk it over?”
Tarn had ties to the biggest crime family in the Underground: The Decepticons.
There had been a time Starscream considered joining them, if only to make sure
he and Pharma could live, but they had scraped by and he hadn’t had to. It was
said that Tarn could cause a mech to have a spark attack with just a few words.
On the surface, though, Tarn was a svelte, refined business mech who ran one of
the largest and most prestigious casino and bordello combinations in Iacon. He
rubbed elbows with Sentinel himself and Lord Protector Megatron was a frequent
visitor.
Saying ‘no’ outright to Tarn was not an option. Starscream had to subtly
convince the tank that he didn’t want to recruit him after all. “I- Would not
be opposed. Let me tell my manager.” Starscream breathed, hoping to escape
Tarn’s presence for a few moments.
“I’ve already made arrangements for us in one of the private rooms.” Tarn took
Starscream’s elbow and steered him towards the back staircase.
“But- I’m not- I don’t do that anymore. I’m a Dancer.” Starscream tried to pull
away from the firm grip. “I’m not a Shareware.”
“A shame. I would have paid you handsomely for some attention.” Tarn took a
drag on his cigarette. “But nevertheless, the room will be private enough for
our discussions.”
“But the mechs who work at your place have to do that! You don’t want me there,
because I won’t!” Starscream tried to pull away again, vents coming raggedly as
Tarn dragged him towards the staircase.
“Really, Starscream, I thought you were made of sterner stuff. You have nothing
to fear from being a shareware in my establishment. I do not require my mechs
to show their sparks to clients.” Tarn’s servo on his arm compelled him up the
stairs. It seemed further struggle would do no good. “So you will avoid your
aeriemate’s unfortunate circumstance.”
In desperation, Starscream played his last card. “But I found my spark mate!
I’m going to get out of this business!”
“Ah, yes… Your ill-advised dream of being a researcher.” There was an ill-
disguised snort in Tarn’s voice. “You must realize that a Seeker will never be
a scientist in Iacon. Especially not one from your background.”
“I have a right to better myself!” Starscream closed his optics, shaking his
helm. “I don’t want to live like this!”
“Since when do the powers that be care about your rights?” Tarn compelled
Starscream into a private room and forced him to sit down in a chair. He began
to mix a cocktail. “You had best listen to me and take what I’m offering you.
It will be the best offer you get.”
Defeated, Starscream snatched the glass from him. “Spare me the niceties then.”
He wasn’t getting out of here without agreeing to dance for Tarn’s clientel.
“I’m willing to offer you ten times the take you have here.” Tarn explained,
pouring himself out straight high-grade. “What do you make? Five hundred a
night?”
“One hundred.” Starscream quietly told the cocktail.
“Primus. You let yourself be cheated that badly?” Tarn snorted at the low
price. “Then I’m willing to offer you fifty times what you make here. Five
thousand credits a night, Starscream, and as you gain a following and
experience, I’ll promote you. You’ll make even more. Plus a bonus for any
services you render clients.”
“I won’t render services to clients, Tarn. I’m a Dancer now. Just a Dancer.”
Starscream told his cocktail again. It seemed to be listening better than Tarn
anyway.
“You’ll change your mind.” Tarn put a servo on the back of Starscream’s chair,
leaning into his space. “All that erotic power, and you want to keep it to
yourself? Tsk, tsk, selfish, Starscream.”
“I have to wait on the tables.” Starscream breathed.
“No, you don’t.” Tarn stated almost harshly. “And when you come to work for me,
you’ll never have to again. My mechs don’t wait the tables, Starscream, and
they don’t dress themselves in an open room. Every one of my mechs has their
own room, their name on the door, a key, and a washracks. They have luxuries
and a place to rest in between shows or servicings. You’ll be so much better
off.”
“I don’t want to stay in this life.” Starscream whispered. “I don’t want to
turn tricks. I don’t want to be bought. I don’t want to sell myself.”
“Life rarely gives us what we want.” Tarn dropped his face to Starscream’s neck
and began kissing it. “And others often take what they want. So, you will come
to work for me, and the fact that you’ll make so much more at it is just an
incidental.”
“…I don’t have a choice, do I?”
“Not if you want to keep yourself and your aeriemate venting.” Tarn nipped one
of his energon lines.
“…Then I will.” Starscream closed his optics. “I will.”
***** The Morning After *****
Starscream pushed himself up. He must have fallen into recharge. No surprise
really. Tanks were exhausting. They had far, far too much stamina and Tarn had
been hammering on his aft for hours before he finished. The sun was rising over
the horizon, lighting an empty bottle that had been engex and two dirty
glasses. There was a thick envelope beside Starscream on the pillow. With a
sigh, he picked it up and opened it. It was fat with credits and there was a
note. At the sight of Tarn’s flowery handwriting, he almost threw up.
Starscream –
I expect you to report for a fitting at Je Su Belle on Wednesday. However, you
will not need to begin work until next month. I have forwarded you payment for
your first two nights’ work to keep yourself until you report. There is also a
bonus included for your services this evening and I took the liberty of drawing
your last check for you.
Forgive me for not waking you. You are as hypnotic asleep as you are waking-
Starscream crushed the note in his servos and threw it away from himself. He
curled his knee to his cockpit and cradled his helm. The cameo hanging around
his neck felt cold and heavy. “I don’t want this…” He whispered to himself.
When he was done wallowing, Starscream stood up and staggered slightly when he
felt the burn of over-stretched calipers between his legs. Willing himself
upright, he went downstairs to clean himself off in the washrack in the
dressing room. There was transfluid on his neck and patterned all the way up
his back. Filthy tank. He stood under the running water for what felt like
hours. On his way out, he looked into his locker, not his locker anymore, and
saw the costume pieces he had worked on and over. The only thing he kept was
the fringe he and Pharma had woven together. The rest of them, he piled on the
bench down the middle of the room with a note: Free to take. He wouldn’t need
these at Tarn’s Bordello: The Scarlet Flower.
“…I don’t want this.” He whispered again as he made his way to the stop for the
monorail. The car passed by the tall, red-painted building that he knew was the
Scarlet Flower. Coolant tears gathered in his optics as he clutched the
envelope in his servos.
He dropped his keys as soon as he was inside. His servos trembled as he tried
to make his way through the apartment in the dim light. He kept bumping into
furniture he couldn’t see through his tear-filled optics.
Orion was asleep when Starscream made his way to their berth. He unpacked his
cosmetics, but his servos shook as he tried to arrange them and he ended up
knocking them over. He wouldn’t need to make his own cosmetics at the Scarlet
Flower either. Finally, Starscream made it to the berth, the envelope dropping
from one servo and the credits inside scattering over the floor. Orion was
laying on his side, back turned to the center of the bed, and Starscream sat
down on the other side, tipping over into the pillow and shaking.
“You’re late…” Orion muttered, turning over. “It’s almost morning.”
“I was held up.” Starscream replied. “Not that it matters. It’s just work.”
“You sound odd. Are you all right?” The Detective questioned.
“Doesn’t matter. Just let me recharge.” Starscream turned his helm away.
Orion sat up and looked over his shoulder at the trembling Seeker. “…Fine. I’m
going to make breakfast. You want anything?”
Starscream’s tanks growled. “…Sure.”
“I’ll bring you some eggs then. I can make those.” Orion reached out and patted
the Seeker’s hip comfortingly. “I have to go to work. A bust is going to go
down this afternoon, but I’ll be home early. I think. We can take Pharma and go
to the cinema.”
“Fine with me.” Starscream muttered.
“…All right.” Orion finally gathered up his morning kit and left. Starscream
rolled the covers around himself like a cocoon to recharge.
 
Pharma was stirring by the time Orion flipped over the bacon. “Orion… It’s
really early.”
“Starscream woke me up when he climbed into berth.” Orion explained. “No, don’t
stress yourself. I’m making breakfast.”
Pharma sat at the bar and watched. “That smells… really good.” He looked down
at his servos. “I always burn bacon… I know Starscream doesn’t eat it because I
do, but he never says anything.”
“Probably trying to be nice. Last night’s dinner wasn’t so bad. Needed a little
salt, but nothing drastic.” Orion flipped out three servings of breakfast and
covered one of them.
“Really?” Pharma smiled. “Maybe I’m getting better.” He sighed, looking down at
himself. “Though I should probably watch my figure.”
“No, no… You look great.” Orion flashed a smile at him and offered him a plate.
“Sit and eat with me?”
***** Prowl's Points *****
After breakfast with Pharma, Orion carried Starscream’s plate into the
berthroom to leave it beside his bed. As he walked around the berth, he found
the scattered credits leaking out of the envelope. Picking it up, he counted it
subconsciously while stacking it back in the envelope. It was easily twenty-
thousand credits. Primus.
He looked at the cocooned Seeker. What had Starscream done to earn this much
money? He hadn’t seen this much in one place in all his vorns. Would the Seeker
miss it…? No, no it wouldn’t be right. Hesitating slightly, he slipped the
envelope under Starscream’s pillow where he would surely find it when he woke
up and then patted the bundle slightly. Time to head to work. He gathered his
kit, swung his trench coat about himself, and headed out into the weather. It
was looking to be a long, cold, wet winter.
Prowl was waiting for him. “I’ve had officers on stake-out at the location you
sent me. How was… your evening?” He asked over his comm-channel to avoid the
other members of the team hearing.
“The evening was brilliant, and the morning was almost as good.” Orion walked
with Prowl to get their SWAT armor and equipment for the raid. “But not for the
same reason.”
“Really? What happened on the evening and in the morning that was so
different?” Prowl questioned.
Orion made sure his side-arm was in working condition. “Well… In the evening, I
made love with a lovely Seeker. Then, in the morning, I had breakfast with a
lovely Seeker. Both pleasures, not quite the same.” He decided to omit the
detail that it had been two different Seekers. Prowl probably wouldn’t take
that kindly.
“I knew you’d warm up to your spark mate soon.” Prowl smiled, aiming his own
side-arm to check the alignment. “So, when will we be formally introduced to
the lovely Seeker?”
“…Never.” Orion stated with a finality that made Prowl sigh.
“Dare I ask… Why?”
“I think I might have to arrest him for ties to a gang, Prowl. That’s why.”
“…You’re kidding.” Prowl pulled the trigger on his side arm in reflex. Good
thing it was on safety.
“I found twenty thousand credits in an envelope scattered all over the floor
this morning, Prowl. What else could it be?” Orion sighed.
“What did you say Starscream’s profession was?”
“He’s a Shareware, but he makes it very clear that he’s a Dancer now.” Orion
looked over at Prowl. “What are you thinking?”
“Twenty-thousand credits… Well, perhaps it’s far-fetched, but have you thought
it was a customer who couldn’t take no for an answer and didn’t want to be
dragged before the law afterwards?”
“…I didn’t ask.”
“You had breakfast with him and you didn’t ask about the money scattered on the
floor?”
Orion was silent, caught in his own trap.
“…It wasn’t him you had breakfast with, was it?” Prowl stared accusingly at his
partner.
“We have his cousin living with us. Pharma. He’s everything Starscream isn’t.”
Orion wished he had brought his pack of Royals with him. He could use one right
now. He hadn’t smoked one that morning and he could feel the craving now. He
pushed it down.
“Slag, Orion, that’s not right.” Prowl put his side-arm in its holster. “Cheat
on your spark mate with his own cousin? Are you trying to tempt Primus?”
“What do you mean by that?” Orion spun his side-arm and holstered it, beginning
the walk out to the van.
Prowl smacked his side as hard as he could. “Orion, we saw a case just like
this. I don’t want to have to be called down to the morgue to identify you on a
slab. Much less stand in a witness box across from your spark mate and testify
that he had motive.”
“It’s not going to come to that. Pharma’s too close to Starscream. All we did
was have breakfast and talk.”
“While your spark mate was… where?”
“In berth. He came in at an ungodly hour, dropped into it, and wouldn’t get
up.”
“…When you get home, talk to him. Before you do anything else. Just talk to
him. Try and find out about the money from his mouth, not from your overactive
processor.”
“…All right. We’re going to the cinema, but I’ll talk to him during the news
reel.” Orion promised Prowl.
“The cinema? Well, that will be nice. Good place to take one’s spark mate for
an evening alone.” He shot a side-long glance at Orion. “It is an evening
alone.”
“Of course.” Orion replied, thinking of Pharma. “What else would it be?”
 
The Cartwheels bust went well and Orion came home in high spirits to find
Starscream wrapped up in a blanket, reading a tawdry romantic novel from the
cover, and sitting with two boxes of middling grade sweets and a pair of empty
boxes beneath him, one servo idly in the box. “Ready to go to the Cinema,
Starscream?”
“…I don’t feel like it, Orion. You and Pharma go on without me.” Starscream
turned his optics down to the pages of words before him and stuffed another
treat into his mouth.
Now that felt wrong, and at the same time it was a rather tempting offer.
“What’s wrong?”
“…I’ve had my first batch of research grant letters come.” Starscream nodded to
a stack of open letters on the counter. “Pharma brought them from the
University post office when he came home from classes.”
Orion picked the top one up and scanned through it. “Impressed with your work
regarding particle-induced shock… However we regret to inform you that the
grant has been awarded to a more deserving researcher…” He hefted the stack.
“Are they all like this?”
“More or less.” Starscream sighed. “I went shopping. Dinner’s chicken. I left a
plate on the warmer.”
“Did Pharma cook it?” Orion questioned half-dreading the answer.
“No. I bought it pre-roasted.”
Orion looked at the stack of letters and shook his head. “This right here? This
is slag and we both know it, Starscream. They’re just freezing you out for your
frametype.” He dropped the whole stack into the incinerator and let them go up
in flames.
“I know that.” Starscream pushed away the boxes of treats. “Doesn’t make it
hurt less. Almost twenty years of my life, Orion. All wasted scraping up
scholarships and staying up late reading until my optics hurt. You have any
idea what I could have been doing with my life?”
“Hey, you had a dream.” Orion leaned over the back of the couch and kissed his
helm. “And that dream didn’t work out. It isn’t your fault. Now come on. Polish
up, stop eating whatever these are, and come to the cinema.”
“All right.” Starscream sighed, sitting up and letting the blanket fall off of
him. “Danielle Steel just wasn’t doing it for me anyway.” He looked down at the
boxes of candies in disgust. “Excuse me.” He went into the washracks to get
ready for the evening.
***** Sabrina *****
Starscream finished purging the results of his binge and sighed, facing himself
in the mirror. To his critical optic, he looked drawn and tired in spite of
sleeping most of the day away and spending the rest doing little more than some
light shopping and reading stupid literature. It had been a long time since he
had had the time or inclination to indulge himself this way, but it seemed all
his efforts to graduate were for not. He could afford to let his grades slip a
bit. “I look terrible.” He muttered to himself and began sorting though his
cosmetics, picking out his favorites and beginning his neglected beauty
routine: Glossy, lined optics, a slight flair downwards with the paint, a
coating of moisturizing foundation, one of liquid dye, and a top coat of more
powdered glossy. There was a crème mechs could buy these days that combined the
three steps to a perfect lip in one: Lipstick. Perhaps when he had a chance to
go to a department store, he’d get some, but there was an art to his lippaint.
He had spent a long time learning how to paint his faceplates. Knowing Tarn, he
would spend even longer re-learning. He had heard stories about the courses
that mechs had to complete before they went to work at the Scarlet Flower. He
had no doubt Tarn would be filling his month before he started with such
lessons.
Orion’s cameo still hung comfortingly around his neckcables. He had, of course,
kept it on all day. It was a fetching, unique little thing. He didn’t think he
would ever take it off. It could hide under a collar, if it needed to, or even
under the smooth lip of plating where his neck met his chassis.
Evidence of Tarn’s rough handling still stretched between his legs
occasionally. Starscream would step wrong and wince. It had been too long since
he had had a tank after him. Bloody brutes. He supposed he would get used to it
again before long and his frame would start to remember how to open for such
large mechs.
He touched the envelope again: Twenty thousand credits. For two nights of work
and a single interface. There were mechs who didn’t make that much in a year.
Once upon a time, Starscream had been one of those mechs. Now he was going to
be a shareware at the most prestigious Bordello in Iacon, and money like this
was being poured into his lap. Sighing, he tucked the envelope away again. This
would be nice for when he and Pharma had a chance to go to the department
stores. A nursery for the sparkling trimmed out in everything a Carrier could
imagine.
Orion smiled when he saw Starscream come out. He and Pharma were talking while
they waited. “…It’s a double feature: Audrey Hepburn’s newest film, and one of
my favorites: The Quiet Man.”
“Sounds lovely.” Pharma smiled up at Orion and turned when his aeriemate came
in. “Doesn’t that sound great, Starscream? You love Audrey Hepburn’s movies.”
“I do.” Starscream smiled. “Pharma, hold still.” With a careful servo, he
applied some pale pink lip color to Pharma’s lips. “There. Now we’re ready.
Come on, Orion, or we won’t have time to get popcorn before the movies.”
“All right.” Orion picked up his side-arm and slipped it into his subspace.
“Just in case. Shall we?” He put his servos in his pockets and Starscream took
his arm. Pharma walked alongside them as they went down the street.
 
The cinema was a pretty building with a glowing sign that announced the titles
of the films on offer: The Quiet Man in technicolor and Sabrina. A double
feature with a twenty minute intermission in between. They were just in time to
get the good seats right in the center of the theater. Orion held them while
Pharma and Starscream brought some snacks. Orion lit one of his Royals and
smoked contemplatively while the advertisements and trailers played. He had
laid out his coat on one seat and his hat on another and he was sitting between
them, just waiting for his Seekers. It wasn’t long before his view of the
screen was blocked by a lovely pair of legs and rounded aft. “Excuse me, Orion,
sorry. Here’s your coke.” Pharma handed him the bottle.
“Thanks, Pharma.” Orion ran his digits over the back of Pharma’s servo as he
took the bottle.
Starscream snuggled down into the red velvet seats with a full concessions tray
on his lap.
“Good Primus, Starscream, are you really going to eat all that?” Orion
questioned, looking down into his tray, thinking of the two empty boxes of
sweets at home.
“Don’t be silly. The popcorn is for you.” Starscream handed him the massive
striped bag, which left a dill pickle, two fat hot dogs with mustard, and a box
of cracker jack in the tray.
“Oh, thank you.” Orion shook his helm as the cartoon started.
Pharma had a small box of chocolate mints and he offered them to Orion. “Would
you like one?”
“Thank you, Pharma.” Orion accepted the mint while Starscream watched the cat
chasing around the mouse. “Do you like cartoons?” He murmured.
“Love them.” Pharma admitted, taking a few kernels of the Convoy’s popcorn and
leaning a little closer.
Orion took a puff of his cigarette and held the stick away from himself as he
looked into Pharma’s optics. Starscream looked up to find the cigarette quite
near his faceplates and awkwardly took a puff. “Thank you, Orion, but don’t get
ash in my pickle.” He gently took the cigarette and stubbed it out in the tray.
Orion, finding his servo empty, put his arm around Starscream, who purred
softly.
The first movie began, Sabrina. Starscream was soon wrapped up in the tale,
nibbling as he went. Orion carefully wrapped his other arm around Pharma and
stroked his upper arm as the drama played out between Sabrina and the two
brothers.
***** The Quiet Man *****
By the time intermission rolled around, Starscream had emptied his tray and
Orion had forgotten his promise to Prowl to ask the Seeker about the money. “I
need to go powder my nose. Orion, do you want a refill on popcorn?”
“Thanks, Stars. Another coke while you’re at it.”
“Water for me, Starscream.” Pharma requested.
“All right.” Starscream shifted his way out of the row while the newsreel
rolled.
Orion didn’t take his arm away from Pharma’s shoulders. “So… That Audrey
Hepburn is something, isn’t she?”
“She’s magnificent, and those big eyes…” Pharma sighed. “I wish I had a face
like hers. So sweet and innocent.”
“I like your face.” Orion was very aware of how warm Pharma was next to him.
“It was so sad at the end.” Pharma sighed wistfully. “The girl dreams of one
mech all her life and at the end, she gets his brother, but they were in love
too, so I guess they’ll be happy.”
“Indeed.” Orion stroked Pharma’s arm. “It must be rough to have your
expectations change like that.”
“I suppose it’s a good thing, though, since she got a man who was so much more
serious about everything… I suppose he’d make a better husband than the other
one. But I would kill to have some of Sabrina’s dresses. Especially that white
and black one, but I have no idea where I’d find something like that.”
“Won’t copycat designs start showing up at the department store? You could get
one there.”
“I suppose, but what would I do with it. Starscream works, so he could wear it
at work, but I just sit at home. I don’t go anywhere.”
“You could wear it here, to the cinema. For opening nights.”
“Oh, but I never go to the cinema, Orion. Though… I’d love to meet my spark
mate while I’m wearing that dress. Can’t you imagine how lovely that would be?”
“I can. You’d be gorgeous in that. Any mech would be lucky to have you.”
Orion’s lipplates had come closer and closer to Pharma’s audial until he was
practically kissing it.
Pharma turned his helm until they were staring into each other’s optics.
Pharma’s azure ones sparkled in time with Orion’s sapphire. Then, they were
kissing. It wasn’t hot and messy, like kissing Starscream could be, but it was
warm and chaste and sweet. Orion brought his other arm to Pharma’s shoulder and
traced patterns on it. Suddenly, though, Pharma pushed him away. “No! We
can’t.”
Orion sat up and arranged himself, though he left the arm around Pharma. “Why
not? We both feel this.”
“Because it would be so wrong.” Pharma pushed his arm away. “You’re
Starscream’s spark mate and I’m his cousin. I can’t do that to him.”
Orion looked up at the newsreel. “He probably wouldn’t mind. I haven’t
complained about him still working as a Shareware, have I?”
“That’s different, Orion. That’s work.” Pharma chastised him. “He only started
doing that so he could support us. I owe everything to him, Orion. Everything.
And he’s given me too much to turn my back on him. You’re the only thing he has
that he wants to keep to himself. I can’t take you from him.”
“He doesn’t have to know. He leaves at night.”
“He’d find out, Orion. You can’t keep something like this secret.” Pharma
turned away. “I won’t hear any more on this. It’s wrong and you know it.”
Starscream chose that moment to come back with their refreshments and he handed
them around. “How did you like Sabrina, Pharma?”
“It was lovely, Starscream. I loved the dynamic between the two brothers.”
“Hmm. I suppose the story was all right, but what I really enjoyed was the
costuming. I’d love to have a dress like the black and white one.” Starscream
wistfully replied.
Orion folded his arms and leaned back in the seat. Of course, he had to end up
with the cousin who was as shallow as a puddle for his spark mate.
“So would I.” Pharma sighed as well and the two Seekers chatted about the
beautiful costuming for several long minutes.
The Quiet Man’s opening music began playing, sparing Orion further conversation
between them and he leaned back into the chair, watching. His and Pharma’s arms
brushed against each other as they continued to share the box of mint candies
and eventually, Orion stretched and put an arm around each Seeker. Starscream
purred softly and leaned into his shoulder. Pharma peeked over at his aeriemate
and then leaned just slightly against the arm.
They walked home through the cold night, talking amongst themselves. Orion kept
the arm around Starscream mostly by compulsion, since the Seeker had his own
arm around Orion as well. Pharma walked close to Orion, not quite touching, but
occasionally, brushing the sleeve of his coat. While Starscream was talking
about Vos – something about The Quiet Man had reminded him of his home city –
Orion reached out just slightly and entwined his digits with Pharma’s.
 
Starscream curled into Orion’s side that night.
“…Aren’t you going to work?” Orion questioned drowsily, stubbing out their
post-coital cigarette. It seemed it would become as much a habit to share one
as it was to smoke on in the first place.
“I’ve been recruited for a different club. I have a month before I report
there.” Starscream quietly informed him. His voice sounded very weak and was
definitely edging towards his natural screech. Though he could control his vox
box, sometimes for very long times, without resting it, he would lose his
voice.
“Oh… That’s nice.” Orion turned and nuzzled the Seeker’s neck. “But you’re not
giving Sharewaring up?”
“I’m not a Shareware. I’m a Dancer.” Starscream sighed and nuzzled back into
Orion, grabbing for the covers and pulling them up over their frames. He
muttered something that sounded like. “…If people make me do things I don’t
want to, it’s not my fault…”
Orion picked his helm up. “What was that, Starscream?”
But the Seeker was already asleep.
***** Je Su Belle *****
The next two weeks set the tone for his employment with Tarn considerably. The
mech was certifiable. The fitting at Je Su Belle was nothing short of
ridiculous. Tarn ordered about the attendant seamstresses as if they were
creating art rather than costumes to display a Seeker in.
Starscream stood on a slightly raised platform in the middle of the room, dully
staring into space. He had tried a final plea when he met Tarn at the Scarlet
Flower before the tank shuffled him off to the fitting. Tarn had made him come
up to his office, presumably to offer him a drink.
“Starscream, come in.” Tarn jovially greeted him. “Have some brandy?”
“No.” Starscream refused, staying near the door. “I don’t drink brandy.”
“A shame. It’s a fine drink. Almost as fine as you are.” Tarn beckoned him.
“…Tarn, I brought back your money. Every credit of it.” Starscream put the
envelope on the desk. “I don’t want it. I don’t want to work here. I want to
stop working entirely. Can’t you understand? I’ve met my spark mate. I’m done
with this life.”
Tarn laughed deep in his chassis. “Come on, Starscream. We both know a spark
mate is no more magical than a Shareware. You wouldn’t be happy if you passed
up five thousand a night and we both know it.”
“I don’t care about the money. It was only ever something I had to have so
Pharma could live.” Starscream shook his helm. “Can’t you see this is
destroying me? I’ve brought you back your money – I won’t even mention how you
mistreated me – but I want out. I’m not going to dance for you like a monkey on
a leash.”
“I think you will.” Tarn’s optics flashed dangerously.
“I think I won’t.” Starscream adamantly replied. “And if you try to do anything
to me, I’ll scream. There has to be some decent person on your staff who would
respond to a lady.”
“You’re no lady, and do you think I haven’t dealt with rebellious Shareware
like you before? Right here in this office?” Tarn stood up, menacing over the
tiny Seeker. “And what do you think I’ll do to Pharma if you don’t do exactly
what I tell you?”
“You’re a coward.” Starscream spat at him. “Threatening a helpless mech and his
child because you want someone you can’t have.”
“I may be a coward.” Tarn pinned him to the wall with ease. “But I’m the coward
who owns you, and you know it.”
“You’re an uncultured brute. You think everything is for sale, don’t you, Tarn?
You bought yourself everything in this room, but you didn’t earn any of it.”
Starscream pulled back his lipplates from his denteas. “Well, you can’t buy me.
I don’t understand why you even want me.” He hadn’t been bothering to control
his normal screech and it had to be drilling at Tarn’s audials.
“All my life, I’ve tried to collect fine things, Starscream. You’re going into
that collection, like it or not.”
Starscream hissed. “You can force me to work here, Tarn, but I’ll never love
you, and you’ll never own me.”
“…We’re wasting time.” Tarn tucked the envelope back into Starscream’s subspace
pocket. “You’ll feel better when you see the wardrobe I’m paying out the nasal
vent for.”
“I highly doubt that.” But he had nothing more to say.
 
Now, Tarn was watching as the seamstress rushed about. He was looking up at
Starscream with a stupid expression, like he was watching a work of art being
made. Starscream scowled back down at him with a dark expression. So far, none
of the dresses he was being forced to wear were revealing or anything like the
costumes he had made for himself. In fact, they were dresses like noble mechs
wore, with trains and ball gown skirts. They were made of silk, satin, taffeta…
Lace. Everything he could have dreamed of. There were even long cloaks with
hoods, linings of fur. It was less a dancer’s wardrobe than a noble’s.
“What game are you playing at?” Starscream looked at himself in the mirror. “No
one is going to buy a mech who looks like this for the night.”
“How little you understand of the upper class, Starscream. You’ve served lower
classes of men before, men who want to see the goods, see what they’re buying.
But mechs in the upper class… They know what they’re buying, and at my
Bordello, that’s quality. Quality mechs don’t dress in fabric strips. Quality
mechs wear gowns and sashes.” Tarn adjusted one of the straps on Starscream’s
back. He had insisted that the Seeker extend his wings so the clothing could be
fit around them.
“You don’t know what quality is, Tarn.” Starscream reached into his subspace
and lit a cigarette, blowing smoke into Tarn’s faceplates.
“I like to think I would know better than you.”
Starscream shook his helm dismissively and watched himself in the mirror as he
deliberately tapped ash onto the skirts of the white dress he was being fit
into.
Tarn growled, but Starscream ignored him, sedately continuing to smoke. He
would probably pay for this later, but for now, he would continue to mock Tarn.
 
Tarn pinned him to the wall. “I don’t mind the destruction of the garment as
much as the disrespect.” He growled.
“Oh, please, Tarn. We both know you’ll be lucky to get obedience from me.”
Starscream sassed back at him. “As soon as I figure out a lever on you, I’m
going to put you in your place so hard, your aft will sting.” He warned the
pimp.
“I welcome you to try.” Tarn kicked his knees out from underneath him and
forced the Seeker to the floor, panel unlocking and revealing his spike. It was
far too large to fit more than the tip in Starscream’s mouth, but it didn’t
stop him from trying rather enthusiastically to rut into the Seeker’s face.
***** A SHAMELESS PLUG FOR ANOTHER PROJECT *****
Chapter Summary
     This is not to do with Scutwork's plot at all. If you're inclined
     that way, just skip it. But... Everyone who likes/follows my blog is
     getting me a step closer to writing full time... and then I could
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The shadows were less sinister on their walk back. They made a brief stop
outside of Carmel’s bedroom to leave her gown and the jewel case. Then, Carmel
handed Ceol the lamp and shooed him away. “Go back to bed, Ceol. It’s three
hours until Nibiru.”
“Yes, Mother.” Ceol turned away and began the trek out of the women’s wing and
back to his own bed.
It wasn’t long before he heard the soft click of heels on stone, his own
footsteps muffled by the thick carpet. Looking up, he directed the lamp at the
decorative ledge that ran around the roof. “Aunt Carnelian?”
There was silence for a long moment as the shadows cast by delicate statuary
refused to coalesce. Then, Carnelian stepped out from behind a cherub. “I hate
it when you call me Aunt.”
“You’ve said, but I’m at a loss for what to call you otherwise.” Ceol replied.
“What are you doing up at this hour?”
“I could ask the same.” Carnelian dropped to the carpet.
“Mother took me to her vault to get clothes for the Waverly party.”
“Indeed. I’ve been looking forwards to it myself.” Carnelian folded her arms
over her long coat, the leather bodysuit beneath shone in the lantern light.
“I thought you were the one who warned them to stay out of the public eye for a
while?” Ceol questioned. “Aren’t you upset that they didn’t listen?”
“I didn’t expect Lady Aoko to listen for long. Beside that, I must admit: I
miss the Waverly parties. They were scandalous. It was fun.” She smiled, her
green eyes lighting up with mischief.
“You would think scandal is fun.” Ceol couldn’t help smiling back. Carnelian’s
moods, good or bad, were infectious.
“Don’t you?” Carnelian spread her hands in a questioning gesture.
Ceol sighed, smirking. “To a point.”
Finally, his Aunt looked over at a clock nearby. “It’s half past the third
hour, Ceol. You should get some more rest before Nibiru.”
“What about you, Aunt Carnelian?” Ceol began walking down the halls again.
“Oh, you know me. Have to do enforcer things.” Carnelian smirked. She didn’t
look it, but she took her job as her sister’s deadly hand very seriously.
“Good night, Aunt Carnelian.”
“Good night, Ceol. Don’t let the bedbugs bite!”
Ceol suspected that more than ninety percent of Carnelian’s displayed
personality was a carefully maintained act. No one could be that systematically
bizarre and yet maintain and nurture a web of spies, remove powerful enemies of
the crown, and keep a thumb on the political pulsepoint of Beikirk. On the
other hand, his grandfather had declared her unfit to rule and favored
Kommissar over her. He assumed there was a reason.
And his Mother and Kommissar often spoke of Carnelian being “better” or “worse”
as if she had a disease…
Ceol put it from his mind. Carnelian was Carnelian and there was nothing more
to say.
 
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***** The Morning After *****
Orion came home early. Starscream was still out – according to Pharma he had
gone to the department stores to shop and wouldn’t be back for awhile. He
brought dinner with him, Chicken Coq au Vin from the restaurant on the corner –
three servings, of course – and Pharma was waiting for him when he arrived.
“Starscream can never, never find out.” He told Orion in no uncertain terms. “I
don’t care what happens, he can’t know.”
“I understand.” Orion had no intention of letting the Seeker know either.
Reaching out, he pulled Pharma close to his grill. “I will be absolutely
discrete.”
“Oh, Primus…” Pharma was beginning to run hot. “Do it. Before I change my mind.
Take me.”
Orion pushed him down into the sofa and climbed up over him. His mask
transformed out of the way and he dropped his mouth to Pharma’s neck and
nibbled the cables there, sending shocks down both of their frames.
 
Starscream came home with an armful of boxes from department stores to find
Orion sleeping on the couch. Pharma was already in berth.
The red, white, and blue Seeker sighed and set down his bundles. “You shouldn’t
have waited up for me.” He told Orion, settling on the couch beside him.
“Hmm? Wouldn’t dream of it, Sweetspark.” Orion muttered, wrapping an arm around
Starscream’s waist and pulling him close, sleepily digging his faceplates into
his waist.
Starscream smiled down at the sleepy convoy and indulged himself in some quiet
confession where no one would hear or remember. “…I’m in trouble, Orion, and I
don’t know what to do. Tarn has me on my wings. I’m not even sure I can trust
you to help me.”
Orion grumbled something that almost sounded like a question.
“I never wanted to be a dancer… or a Shareware. Now that I am… I’m not going to
be allowed to stop. I wish there was something someone could do, but I’m afraid
that there isn’t a simple solution.” Starscream soothed a servo over his helm.
“…You’re much nicer when you’re asleep. I wish you could be in recharge all the
time.”
 
Orion had disturbing dreams all through that night and woke up covered in a
dark blue throw to the sound of someone humming softly and stirring something.
Starscream was standing in the kitchen, in front of the window, with a bowl in
one arm, staring out over the city.
Orion sat up, optics still blurry from sleep. “…Doesn’t Pharma usually cook?”
“You have to be relieved. We’re having pancakes.” Starscream turned. He was
dwarfed by the window’s height. Everything about Orion’s apartment made him
look small.
“…I smell coffee.” Orion stretched and stood up.
“It’s on the stove. It just finished boiling.” Starscream nodded to the pot.
Orion poured a cup and sat down at the table, looking up at his striking
Seeker.
“…I’m going out this afternoon. I won’t be home until about the sixth hour.”
Tarn was insisting on some dancing lessons and music lessons as well.
“What are you going to do?” Orion questioned.
“Pursue some interests… in hopes of finding a new career. Clearly, I’m not
going to be able to pursue science for awhile… Though don’t think that means
I’m giving up!”
“I wouldn’t dream of it.” Orion gave him a slight smile and handed the Seeker a
mug of the strong coffee.
Starscream tossed back the whole cup without noticing the heat and hummed,
pouring out a few pancakes. “We’ll have breakfast soon.”
“I’ll go wake Pharma then.” Orion walked off down the apartment hallway and
lifted a servo to tap on the door.
Pharma came to it with odd streaks under his optics and a demure frown on his
faceplates. He had a towel wrapped around his frame and he had just stepped out
of a shower. “What is it, Orion?”
Orion shot a glance down the hallway. They were just out of sight of the
kitchen where Starscream was cooking. He pressed a slight kiss to the demure
lipplates. “Good morning.”
“Good morning.” Pharma sighed in return.
“How was… yesterday?” Orion murmured.
“…It was… kind of amazing, Orion, but I’m not sure it should happen again.”
Pharma muttered back. “…I know my hormones are affecting my judgment right now,
with the sparkling and everything that’s going on.”
Orion gently touched his chin. “If you want it to happen again, then it will
happen. If you don’t, then it won’t. It’s your choice, but I can’t deny that I
feel something for you.”
Pharma ducked his helm away. “Starscream is your Sparkmate, though. I don’t
understand why you don’t want him above all.”
“I don’t know. Maybe Primus made a mistake. I won’t deny that I’m magnetized to
Starscream, but there’s something special about you too.”
Pharma scratched his arm softly. “You say sweet things sometimes, Orion. This
thing that we have… it can’t last forever. I want you to say sweet things to
Starscream too, so that when it does have to end, it ends cleanly.”
“…Agreed.” Orion sighed slightly and turned towards the kitchen. “Starscream’s
making pancakes.”
“I’ll be right out.” Pharma’s lipplates curved slightly.
Orion flashed him a wink and headed back into the kitchen in a better mood.
 
Starscream saw Orion down the street with an umbrella. It was raining again.
Iacon was known for its tempestuous weather.
“…Somedays, I think Primus hates this city.” The hard-bitten cop admitted to
the Seeker. “Somedays, I don’t really blame him.” They were smoking as they
walked, a single cigarette, passing it back and forth. Starscream was wrapped
in one of Orion’s trenchcoats and the high collar shielded his face – making
him almost impossible to recognize.
“That’s a rather down view on the world. I think it’s me Primus hates.”
Starscream took his puff and blew it out through his nasal vent,
contemplatively before passing it back to Orion.
“And it’s me with the pessimistic view?” Orion questioned, smacking the side of
Starscream’s hip with one servo – gently, before he transformed on the corner
of the main street and rolled out, stubbing out the butt of the cigarette as he
went.
***** Venus and Mars *****
Starscream had a talent for music. He had always known he did. But a poor
background had prevented him from acquiring instruments and his voice was not
his best asset. To make a long story short, this lesson was his first time
touching a Xernichord.
It was not going well. Though Starscream had a natural gift, forcing anyone to
try and master something in a fraction of the time it would take would wear on
a mech, and Starscream may have loved music, but he was not going to do this
happily on Tarn’s command.
Endless chords wore on Starscream’s helm and processor. “Is this really
necessary, Tarn?” He snapped. “How much training does one employee need?”
“You are not just an employee. You are a performer and my performers are multi-
talented people capable of making their own music and dancing both elegantly
and sexually.”
Starscream glared, unimpressed.
“Just do it!” Tarn growled. “You’re being paid better than any other mech and
you know it!” He stormed out, leaving Starscream and the instructor alone.
“…I’m just doing my job.” The Instructor quietly told Starscream. “Let’s try
again.”
 
By the time he came home, Starscream’s digits were so sore that he let Pharma
cook. He curled up on the couch and pulled a blanket over his helm, hiding from
the world and tired.
Orion walked in through the door. “I’m home.” He called, stepping out into the
main room. Pharma was in the kitchen, stirring a pot on the stove. Soup tonight
then. Starscream was in a bundle on the couch, helm hidden in a blanket.
“So, you’re home.” He wasn’t in a good mood, if that was any indication.
Orion blew a silent kiss to Pharma on his way to the couch. “Is something
wrong, Starscream?”
“…My servos are sore.” He admitted. “I had a long day.”
“Need to recharge?” Orion gently levered his arms around Starscream and pulled
him up against the Convoy’s frame. He felt floppy and slightly limp.
“…Can’t get there. My mind is working too fast.”
“That sounds like a leading line if I’ve ever heard one.” Orion looked up and
saw Pharma watching them. There was something like approval and something like
jealousy in the other Seeker’s optics. “Come back to the bedroom with me?”
“All right.” Starscream sighed and pitched his helm back against his shoulder.
“You’re being nice today. Should I be worried?”
“No, no…” Orion assured him. “Let’s just get you off to a good recharge.”
The Seeker leaned back into him. “I can’t argue and I don’t want to.”
Orion carried Starscream back to his berth room and laid him down on the master
berth. Pressing his large servos to his thighs, he began kneading with care
around the Seeker’s panel. “Are you going to open for me?”
“…Maybe…” Starscream tried to be a tease, rocking his hips slightly, but he was
too tired and eventually just let the panel open.
Orion felt around the soft valve offered to him, massaging and listening to
Starscream’s soft moans. “Ahhh… yes, please… right there.” The Seeker’s optics
seemed to dim the further he went until they were off entirely.
Orion teased the labia and ran his digits over Starscream’s external node. His
fingers were slick with glowing lubricant and he pressed his thumb to the
biolights on Starscream’s external hood. There was a deep, shuddering sigh from
the Seeker and an almost anti-climactic flow of fluid from inside his body.
“Good?” Orion looked up at Starscream and found that his optics were entirely
off and his faceplates were peaceful and still. His sparkmate was deep in
recharge.
Orion carefully cleaned Starscream, trying not to wake him as he went. After he
had wiped away the fluid and tucked him carefully into the dry spot on the
sheets, he went to see Pharma and have dinner.
Pharma was leaned up on the counter, chewing on one of his apron strings and
lost in thought. There were three plates on the table, but the detective was
far more interested in the rounded and voluptuous figure in front of him.
Pharma gasped softly when Orion gripped his aft. “Orion! What about-?”
“Sleeping like a sparklet.” Orion assured Pharma. “Come on, let’s have a go.
Can’t hurt.”
Pharma began rubbing against his servos as he gripped the older Seeker. “Why
didn’t – ngh – you do this with Starscream?”
“Who says I didn’t?” Orion pulled the Seeker closer to him and let his spike
panel pop open, his own protruding against Pharma’s valve cover. “He fell into
recharge before we could do much.”
Pharma bent close to the counter, presenting his valve. He and Starscream were
very different here as well. Starscream’s biolights were flashing scarlet and
his inner labia peeked out from between the thicker pair. Pharma’s frame was
more demure blue and tucked in parts.
He still opened wonderfully beneath Orion’s ministrations as the Convoy gripped
his wings. Here he could see Pharma’s spark mark: “And so this is Pharma, I’ve
heard so much about you.” There was a flare of jealousy through his plating.
Pharma began huffing out odd vents as Orion fragged him, hard and deep. He was
twisting his hips to get the spike inside of him onto various nodes – harder or
softer depending. “Something bothering you, Orion?”
“Nothing. Just a hard day. Problem?”
“Not at all, dear. Not at all.” Pharma began to press back, finding Orion’s
rhythm. They rocked together in the illicit embrace, Venus and Mars trying to
avoid Hephestus’s attention as he slept peacefully, drunk on some elixir
prepared by his own bride so they might slip out unknown.
Orion had been reading something of Greek Tragedy recently and it was starting
to play games with his processor it seemed.
Orion’s faceplates screwed up against a vocalization as he overloaded deep in
Pharma. They extricated themselves from the messy embrace with care. Pharma
closed his valve cover immediately and Orion put his spike away. Without saying
a word, they sat down to eat, but Orion’s mind was still on Pharma’s spark mark
and the implication that somewhere, there was a mech who would say those words.
***** A New Hobby *****
Tarn trailed his blunt digits up and down the small of Starscream’s back. “Stop
it.”
“Mm?” The tank dug them in at a seam he knew had a knot beneath it and began
rubbing it out.
“Stop touching me. You’ve had your fun.” Starscream turned over and rolled away
from him. There was a series of clicks and a creak from his various joints as
he did.
“Maybe I want another go.”
“Shove it up your aft, Tarn. I’m tired.” Starscream stood up off the bed.
“And yet you’re not staying in bed, in spite of claiming to be tired.” Tarn
took a drag on one of his noxiously filtered cigarettes. “One must wonder where
you would go to that would be better than this.” He gestured around his gaudy
room, the artworks on the walls and draperies around the ornate berth.
“Anywhere. Anywhere is better than here.” Starscream replied, direct and
simple. “I would rather sleep in a coffin than here.”
“You wound me.” Tarn blew out a puff of almost mint-scented tobacco smoke.
“Good. I hate you.” The Seeker wiped himself off at the sink and wrapped
himself up in the coat he had come in.
“…Your pay is on the table.” Tarn casually mentioned as Starscream headed for
the door.
The Seeker turned, staring at the innocent looking white envelope, fat with
credits. Paid, in cash, more money than he could ever earn for himself. Tarn
paid double his usual allotment for interfacing, as he had explained, but the
trade-off was that since Starscream wouldn’t ever accept him willingly, he
forced himself on the Seeker. There were several deep scratches on the tank’s
paint that bore witness to Starscream’s consent, i.e. there was none.
“It’s good money.” Tarn blew out another cloud of smoke. “And the deed’s done.
No point in cutting off your nose to spite your face.”
Starscream made an angry noise in his nasal cavity and grabbed the envelope,
thrusting it into his subspace bitterly. “You son of a glitch.”
“Good evening to you too.” The tank sedately continued to smoke his cigarette.
 
Starscream dragged himself home to find Pharma and Orion were already in berth.
That suited him fine: He had a mess to take care of. Immediately stalking into
the washracks, he began scrubbing himself from helm to pede, getting rid of the
cloying smell of minted smoke and the sticky transfluid. Touching the subspace
pocket where he carried the envelope, he leaned against a wall and sobbed. How
could things be going so horrendously wrong?
He bitterly thought to himself, “At least it can’t be any worse” and lifted his
faceplates to the boiling stream of solvent. It tickled his wings and slipped
under his seams as he fluffed his plating, erasing what had happened to him.
After the solvent did its work, Starscream took a bottle of softly scented oil
and smeared it onto his plating, massaging it in to where his nanites could
soak it up and use it to make his colors flush and smooth once again.
When he stepped out, dry and shining, Orion was stirring. “…Starscream?” The
Convoy muzzily questioned as the tricolor Seeker climbed into berth with him.
“It’s me.” Starscream nuzzled and nestled his way into his embrace, resting his
faceplates in the strong neckcables. “Go back to recharge.”
Orion shifted and his arms came up, locking beneath the Seeker’s wings and
pulling him to his chassis. “Mmm… ‘s late. What are you doing out this late?”
“I had business.” Starscream hedged. “Ask me in the morning, Orion… I’m tired.”
The Detective sighed through his nasal vent and dimmed his optics down again,
falling back into recharge. Starscream stroked the back of his shoulder and
dimmed his own, making his venting regular and even as he tried to drift off.
 
Starscream woke to find that Orion had left the berth. The sounds of cooking
floated down out of the kitchen and his tanks rumbled – no dinner last night.
Getting up, he worked his way down the hallway to find Orion working the stove,
throwing together some kind of hash. “Good morning.” Starscream sleepily sat
down on a chair at the bar.
“Good morning to you too.” Orion leaned over to kiss the Seeker’s helm. “Long
night?”
“Yep.” Starscream laid his helm down on the counter. “Do you mind if I just
drift off right here?”
“If you do that, you’ll miss me trying to make toast.” Orion teased, chopping
the hash one last time and putting a few slices of bread onto a different
skillet. “That’s always a treat.”
“Mm… Where’s Pharma?” Starscream questioned, smelling the savory fragrance of
corn beef hash with eggs and hash browns scrambled into it.
“He ran out to the market to get some fruit.” Orion explained. “Woke up with a
craving.”
“That time then. Shouldn’t be too long until the sparkling emerges.” Starscream
leaned on one hand, watching Orion. “How’s your work going?”
“It’s going.” Orion shrugged. “Every time I put a scumsucker away, two more pop
up in his place. And I have the creeping feeling there are bigger fish out
there than what we’ve been catching.”
Considering that Tarn still walked free, Starscream would consider that a
definite. He snorted, “Sometimes I think you’ll never manage to catch the
biggest fish.”
“Name the mech, and I’ll see what I can do.” Orion responded. “Now that the
Cartwheels are off the street, I need a new project.
The words slipped out of Starscream’s vocalizer like a plea. “Tarn of Kaon, for
rape and blackmail with ties to the Decepticon Mob.”
Orion stopped his work and stared at Starscream. “…Tarn of Kaon is a very large
fish.”
“He’s dirty.” Starscream indifferently shrugged. “And he makes sure his mechs
stay with him, even if they don’t want to. So I don’t see why you shouldn’t try
to catch him.”
“Hmm… I’d have to be careful.” Orion muttered. “But if I could nail Tarn down
hard for something, maybe he would squeal about the rest of the mob.”
“Kill many, many birds with a single stone.” Starscream’s wings fluttered as he
thought about the look on Tarn’s faceplates when he realized he was undone. And
then he could finally get on with his life and leave bordellos behind for good.
“All right.” Orion nodded, almost to himself. “I’ll make Tarn my personal hobby
from now on.”
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