Chapter Text
Try as he might, Blurr could never manage to be stealthy.
He came home late most days that he worked, sometimes long after Starscream had retired to recharge since their schedules rarely coincided. Sneaking in to join Starscream on the berth never worked. Starscream always woke, greeting Blurr with a sleepy smile and reaching out with eager arms.
Blurr hated disturbing his Seeker’s much needed rest. But not even lessons from Jazz could make Blurr’s nightly returns furtive. No matter how quiet he was, or how carefully he moved, Starscream always knew. He supposed there were some things that eons spent as a Decepticon couldn’t be unlearned.
He only once made the mistake of foregoing the berth and choosing the couch instead. They hadn’t argued recently. Starscream had fully expected Blurr to join him by a certain time. Blurr, however, knew Starscream had worked later than usual, and had been overworking as of late. He didn’t want to interrupt a recharge cycle.
The couch wasn’t terrible to sleep on. Blurr had certainly attempted to recharge in worst conditions during the war. He’d gotten accustomed to discomfort.
Blurr had just fallen into an uneasy recharge – the couch was a lot colder without a Seeker for a blanket – when he jerked into full-scale alert. His comms blared and Starscream came tearing out of the berthroom like Iacon was on fire again, his wings high and rigid.
“What do you mean he left hours ago?” Starscream snarled as his thrusters spat sparks against the floor, and his engine audibly roared. He snapped charges into the ports for his energon swords, his stride quick and purposeful.
“He’s not here!” Starscream shrieked as he made straight for the balcony, his field ready for murder and his optics a dark, baleful crimson.
Blurr had leapt off the touch, feet nearly tangling in the thin, metalmesh blanket he’d tossed over his legs. He rushed to intercept his partner, and nearly got a blade to the belly when a startled Starscream whipped toward him, optics wide and alarmed.
“Where have you been!?!”
That night, neither of them managed more than a few stolen moments of rest. It took ages for Starscream to calm, to rescind the emergency calls, for Jazz’s lecture to stop ringing in Blurr’s comm because yes, he should have known better.
Starscream held him tightly then, and even more so the next few nights after that, so tightly that his talons left gouges in Blurr’s armor. He was late to the office the next morning. No one was amused by the false alarm, Starscream especially, who felt simultaneously angry at Blurr and embarrassed at himself for overreacting.
Blurr made a promise.
He always came to the berth after that. Or informed Starscream otherwise.
Blurr kept trying to be stealthy. He had yet to succeed. He doubted he ever would.
A part of him was relieved.
There was something about coming home to a sleepy smile and open arms that made him feel warm and fuzzy. Starscream always tucked against him, nuzzled into his intake, stole a kiss or three.
Starscream sighed so sweetly as he slipped back into recharge, relaxed and trusting in Blurr’s arms. His field embraced Blurr’s like a blanket.
Put like that, Blurr supposed stealthiness was way overrated.