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“What in the world is that?” Starscream asked with immense surprise. In front of him were large, circle-like disks spread across the floor; these disks were mostly black with layers of rings across their surface, but there was also a blotch of color in the middle and a single hole.
“It’s what humans call vinyl records.”
“I can see that, Knock Out.”
“Well, then why are you even asking me in the first place what it is, Starscream!?”
“Because last I checked, you’re the only one around here who has a fascination with Earthen things,” Starscream sneered. He leaned forward until his frame was close to Knock Out’s faceplate and met the other’s optics as he spoke. “And I do not appreciate your tone, Knock Out. None of this would even be here if you didn’t open the space bridge and cause random things to fly out of it or towards us. These things almost took off our heads.”
“Now listen here, Starscream. I certainly didn’t expect the space bridge to open like it did or for it to come flying at us with such immense speed!? Don’t tell me you were expecting all this junk to fly out at us either.”
“Oh, don’t you dare pin this one on me. You’re the idiot who insisted the coordinates he found would be useful for supplies.”
“And you’re the monkey wrench who stood there instead of stopping me!”
Starscream took a step back and felt his wings droop in response to Knock Out's words. It’s not like the shiny red vehicle-con was wrong, but it didn’t feel right either to hear it. “...Just make sure to get rid of whatever this stuff is. I doubt there is anything among it that will be of any use for our crew.”
“Not even for Soundwave? Laserbeak?” Knock Out, said, surprised. “I thought they’d be interested in this type of stuff.” In his servo was one of the so-called vinyl records. He raised an eyebrow and looked over at Starscream, who was standing there as surprised, if not more so, upon hearing the doctor’s words.
“No, why?”
“Vinyl records play music. Soundwave likes to record things…and I’ve seen him play music for Laserbeak to listen to whenever he’s working. Wow, you’re a terrible conjunx and carrier, Starscream. Should I start feeling bad for Soundwave and Laserbeak right now?”
“I—I’m a perfectly good conjunx and carrier, Doctor.” Starscream insisted. “But since you insist that Soundwave and Laserbeak may—and I mean may—find an interest in something like this, then I’ll take one and go bring it to them.”
He reached to take the record from Knock Out and frowned while looking at it as he walked off. As far as Starscream knew, someone like Soundwave did in fact like music, and Laserbeak may have had an interest in something like this, but it was also hard to gauge if his family would have liked whatever this specific record in question played.
He wanted to toss it away upon that realization. He wanted to forget whatever Soundwave’s reaction may or may not have been if something like this was brought to him for Laserbeak or Laserbeak’s reaction to getting a gift from her carrier.
Stellar cycles ago, Starscream and Soundwave had still been at war with each other, debating how to run the Nemesis while Megatron had been away and looking for dark energon. Their love by then had barely any vestige left of it; it was no longer avoidable or as easy to brush off. By then it had become simpler to understand than life itself. Then followed the birth and creation of their first sparkling. Yet her first initial breaths of consciousness had created such a rift between them at first, and the burning warmth against Starscream’s bare metal was impossible to ignore at the time.
Energon had roared through his audials. He could only remember after that the sensation of something coiling around his wings to his collarbone, the searing and uncertain attempt at comfort, burning everything it dared to touch. Starscream had trouble thinking as well, speaking even—the world had spun, and the only constant that had remained in his vision was Soundwave, cuddled against him and holding their newest and smallest addition to the Nemesis to his chassis. Both remained pressed tightly against Starscream’s metal.
Starscream tore at the data cables on his wings and waist until they retracted and was pushing Soundwave off his lap, gripping at the sides of his conjunx instead as he sat beside him their nest, clawed servos scratching at the thin metal that made up the other’s black and purple frame.
“Is she alive?” He murmured against Soundwave’s purple chevron. Starscream couldn’t help but worry. There were no noises; their sparkling was so quiet upon arrival. Weren’t sparklings supposed to come out crying? “Don’t tell me. I’m so incompetent in creating young that she came out stillborn.”
“[She’s fine.]” Soundwave replied softly, borrowing past recorded clips he’d taken from Starscream once and always had for the most part whenever they communicated in private unless others were around or if there were easier voice clips to use. “[Listen.]”
Starscream nodded. He closed his optics and tuned his auditory receptors in an attempt to see if Soundwave’s words had any truth to them. “I’m trying, but there’s nothing.”
Nothing.
There really was nothing. There was no chirp or the click of a fan turning on. His sparkling had no sign of bonding with him either. The realization hits Starscream like a cold bucket of oil, striking him where it hurts most as if it were a reminder that there were some things that couldn’t be changed.
He burrowed his face into the crook of Soundwave's neck after that, desperate to hear something, desperate to hear whatever Soundwave was or may have been hearing. Maybe his past trine was right. He wasn’t built to carry, let alone bond with, a sparkling of his own. But wasn’t wishing for it to not be true enough? Hadn’t he tried his best to keep her alive until now? Didn’t Soundwave wish for a different outcome as well?
Soundwave sensing the distress that washed over his conjunx before he may have even been able to fully recognize or vocalize it, attempted to hold him again, this time with his arms, and said, “[She just needs a few more seconds to come online and recognize you. That’s all.]”
“If you’re trying to make me feel better, this isn’t the way, Soundwave.” Starscream whispered, his vocalizer full of static to the point of being barely audible; it was more of a rasp now. “We both knew this was going to happen, but we still went forward with it.”
“[But it’s true, Starscream. She must be trying to figure out her systems right now. Give her a few more clicks to wake up.”]
Their frames weren’t meant to be sparked, nor were they meant to carry or sire—yet they still did so when faced with the news, and restlessly, anyone with a proper processing chip would have identified the issues with that or found a way to avoid it. It was there that Soundwave had noticed Starscream’s eating habits had started to change gradually; he was far more irritable as well and constantly demanded staying by his conjunx’s side—to steal his warmth and presence, irritable if anyone else got near, possessive even. However, Soundwave was only able to confirm his suspicions after cyber-weeks of attempting to drag the wriggly Starscream over to be looked over the Knock Out. Originally, it was thought that the seeker had entered his nesting period, but when the tests came back positive and indicated that Starscream had been sparked, neither were sure what to do for a while but had decided to let fate guide them.
Soundwave soon shook his head. The sudden movement caught Starscream off guard and out of his thoughts, but he could not read what Soundwave meant by that action or why he’d reacted that way. Not even when he readjusted his seated position and propped his head onto Soundwave’s shoulder and servo brought forward to caress their sparkling’s back wings. She was so small and clearly took after her sire in looks.
“All those moons in my chamber, and you come out looking like your stupid sire,” Starscream grumbled. He should have stopped, but he couldn’t. “Are you trying to hurt your care’s pride, little one?”
But it’s after this that something can finally be heard from their sparkling, and a message appears on his HDMI—it’s a request to connect to him; it’s his sparkling attempting to establish a connection with him. Starscream lurched away suddenly out of confusion; the sensation is foreign to him and feels as if his wires were being stripped away from him in the same breath.
It isn’t until he can feel Soundwave’s visor clack against his lips that Starscream starts to remember where he is again and what just happened. His sparking is crying for him now. Her cries are soft and morrow in nature. She wants to connect to her carrier, to feel his warmth and his spark. But Starscream is hesitant—scared the glaring weight of responsibility will cause him to despise the very thing he’s worked so hard to have.
Finally, he accepts. Starscream lets her nestle into his arms, and her chirps begin to steadily increase in volume; no longer as quiet or soft, she's now full of life—she’s small, with a wide wingspan. A small little flight mech with her carrier’s optics to match, bright and red, they shine like rubies as she reaches forward, barely able to maintain her balance but still trying to. It’s all in an attempt to touch and nestle into the crook of Starscream’s neck.
“Hello, little one.” He says, watching as she manages to follow through with her plan, his sparkling is so full of determination that it fills his spark with pride.
“[We’ve been waiting so long to meet you.]” Soundwave adds, softly.
His data cables reach forward and slip around Starscream’s wings—returning to their original and preferred position—Starscream’s lap, and he did so in order, so that he and Starscream are now facing each other better, closer even. And their still-unnamed sparkling is now sandwiched in between them. Their missing puzzle is right where she belongs.
New life is always prosperous and to be celebrated. If they were back home and not stuck somewhere in space on the Nemesis, there would have been a banquet perhaps in honor of her, even an offering to the gods for letting her come to them; perhaps a thanks for letting what could have been the worst become the best.
“You wanted to name her right,” Starscream teased. He’d been too worried about names and had decided to let Soundwave handle it for the most part, though it was known that if he didn’t like what his conjunx picked, he’d have to start over.
“[Laserbeak.]”
It’s a little on the nose after hearing it and staring at the newly named “Laserbeak” but Starscream brushed it off. He had a feeling she would have taken to it despite it all. Instead he repeats the name “Laserbeak" and appreciates how it rolls off of his glossa.
“She’s perfect.”
“[Naturally.]”
⊹₊⟡⋆
When he finally arrived at the main and front section of the Nemesis, Starscream didn’t bother to say a word. He was silent and focused on the sight of Soundwave’s back. His conjunx was currently busy going through some files at the moment but had seemed to sense the seeker’s presence immediately, like it was energon.
Hinted at by the sudden appearance of a single data cable, it snaked its way towards Starscream until it gently clacked against his cheek and gradually made its way to his wings. For some reason, Soundwave had always had a fixation on the other’s wings; he liked the way they moved with every fluctuation or emotion, nothing more than a personal obsession.
Slowly, as if guided by the data cable, Starscream turned to look back at it. A servo reached forward to tease it as well as he brought it a little closer to his optics; the purple and black cable felt like a precious commodity when held like this. “Busy?” He asked the data cable—he knew it was about the same as asking Soundwave.
The data cable paused all movement after, and Starscream felt a smile appear on his faceplate as he started to drag his clawed servos across it gently; it quivered in response to his touch and wrapped around his waist after, tightly, and pulled him forward—to Soundwave.
“I brought something for you and Laserbeak.” He said this time almost carelessly as Soundwave turned around to receive his newly caught and willingly captured seeker with his arms and nuzzled him. “Knock Out thought you two might like it. And I had to agree with him just this once.”
“[Knock Out.] [Did?]”
“Yes.” He pulled out the aforementioned vinyl record and let Soundwave’s data cables take it from him. His conjunx is now preoccupied by the newest toy in front of him, a music disk, an earthen one as well. How interesting.
After some time, a click could be heard, and so could a distinct high-pitched chirp. Laserbeak had finally awoken and noticed her carrier was in the same room as her. She detached herself from Soundwave’s chassis and flew up—towards the ceiling for a few rounds—it was only until Starscream made a noise of parental disapproval that Laserbeak remembered her manners and dove to greet him as well.
He tilted his head and chirped at her. “I brought you something to listen to with your sire.”
“You did?” She chirped back. “What is it? Is it music? Is it music? Did you bring me music?”
“I don’t know yet, little one. Your sire will have to figure out if it can even play music.” He lifted an eyebrow after that and looked at Soundwave with a smirk. “Don’t you, Soundwave?”
“[Look into it for Laserbeak.]” Soundwave echoed. “[And Starscream.]”
“Good.”
Eventually it did seem like Soundwave had been able to figure out how to play the vinyl record, and a soft tune began to play from it, and Starscream watched Laserbeak chirp to it. Her wings spread throughout the room as the lyrics continued to play throughout the room—their sparkling was happy, and wanted to take to the skies.
But before Starscream could comment on her flight skills, a thinly clawed servo was in front of him, and the other had seized the seeker’s waist, so sure of what was to come.
“You want to dance?” Starscream asked, curious. “You?” He has never taken Soundwave before as the type who liked to dance, but maybe he was wrong.
And in response, his conjunx nodded and pulled him into his arms. “[Starscream] [Used to dance before the war.]”
“You must have heard wrong.”
“[Sure.]” Soundwave told him. Whether that inferred that he believed Starscream’s answer, only time would tell.
A warm flush spread across Starscream’s face as a result; blazing red optics were filled with amusement after hearing Soundwave’s response. With a sly wing flick, the seeker allowed himself to be guided by the other, following the languid music and rhythm that flowed from the record as it spun in the background. Each step was mentally counted in twos, threes, and fours. One servo is pressed to the space on Soundwave’s back like it’s always belonged there and was meant to fit against it. All while the record is starting to loop now and the lyrics, ‘Let me be your wings, leave behind the world you know, for another world of wondrous things,’ begin to play for them.
Starscream pressed himself closer to Soundwave’s frame, his warm breath tickling his conjunx’s chevron as he asked, “Have you been practicing?”
“[A little.]”
“How cute of you. Isn’t your sire being cute again, Laserbeak?’
Laserbeak let out a bored chirp, clearly disinterested in the romantic affairs of her manufacturers, preferring to dive and turn circles around them until they’re about to faint from the dizziness that comes with trying to follow her movements and avoid crashing into her.
Yet despite everything, they manage to maintain their slow graceful pace, and Starscream feels Soundwave dip him until his frame is low to the ground, a firm servo pressed to the cusp of the seeker’s back as he raises a knee in response and presses to and up against the other’s hip until he feels something take hold on it—a data cable.
Starscream laughed at his conjunx’s ability to multitask. Most dance partners would only have been able to either pick between holding another’s servo when dipping them into the ground or hold onto their thigh for support. But Soundwave was greedy. He wanted to do both.
“Greedy.” Starscream murmured. “So greedy.”
“[Opportunistic.]” Soundwave corrected. “[Soundwave is opportunistic.]”
Starscream snorted but leaned forward to lightly peck at Soundwave’s visor. “Same thing.”
“[No.]”
But despite his words, Soundwave removed his visor for a brief second, exposing his scarred and damaged faceplate. It’s scarred from his time spent in the underground pits of Kaon before the war and his optics are a hazy cloud by now, the light hardly hits anything enough to recognize it without help from his visor. Yet his attention most definitely focused on the one in his grasp, neither moving nor interested in changing from their current position of dance. Starscream is still being held and dipped low into the ground by Soundwave, who continues to stare at him from above like a hunter about to attack its captured and self-offered prey. He moves after that, swooping in to steal another kiss.
And as they kiss, Soundwave starts to bite occasionally, asking for permission to enter, his glossa teasing the bottom of Starscream’s lips—it’s not their first rodeo, but that never changes how they start each and every time. Sharp claws begin to dig into Soundwave’s shoulders as a result. Clearly neither has learned their lesson, and in response, Starscream can feel the sensation of data cables looping around his wings, tugging at them even—whoever gives in first to fully start the kiss is the loser.
Tentatively, Starscream starts to bite and nip back at Soundwave, servos no longer as interested in messing with the other’s shoulder, but instead the spiky and tall antennas on his helm. Those look more fun to mess with. They’re sharp and pointy in nature or appearance, but like Soundwave’s data cables when touched by the seeker, they start to quiver under his touch, melt even, despite the mildness in his pressure or the little dominance in his claim. That’s all it takes to crack his long established conjunx into madness.
Something in the way Soundwave grabbed Starscream by the waist and yanked him forward shows that until all the seeker could do was laugh, now no longer distracted by teasing his conjunx, but capable of picking out the complaints that radiated from his poor sparkling. Laserbeak was tired of their games, tired of her manufacturer’s method of flirting, and tired of their weird style of kissing.
Soundwave lifted his head in response to her minute and expressive tantrum, but if he was embarrassed, it was impossible to read based on his expression alone, as if he expected Starscream to speak for him.
At least until they locked optics and moved in sync to brush against the other’s lips again. A smile spread across Starscream’s faceplate, and he moved to kiss the corner of Soundwave’s optics, content letting Soundwave’s data cables paw at him while they communicate through thoughts alone.
:She does know the door isn’t locked, right? She could’ve left anytime.:
:Yes.:
:Oh well.:
:She probably just wanted to listen to the vinyl record a little longer.:
:I wonder where she got that from.:
:You.:
:Me!?:
Starscream raised an eyebrow in response to Soundwave, who only stared at him and nodded as if it were a fact and not an exaggeration, and before the seeker was able to make another peep, he was promptly shut up with another kiss.
Annoyed, Laserbeak finally remembered that she could leave using the door and took off to go and give Knock Out a piece of her mind.