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On nights like this he felt as though he was a stranger even to himself. The way his wings shined with the expensive yet scarce amount of cybertronian polish he could afford to dress them in. The delicate way his wings hung lower on his back than they had in centuries, in that subtle yet dignified way. He itched to fly, to soar through the treacherous cold and curse the very world that had ripped what was his away from him. And yet he could never find it within himself to curse to kick or scream. He could only look with pity, as though he was the one who had been lost in the storm that night. He vented and made his way out of the Nemesis.
He climbed to the highest point of the ship and checked the weather one more time, it was completely and utterly miserable. Perfect.
He started slow, some simple foot work, his pedes shifting and he bowed to his invisible partner. His hands raising to take him by the shoulders, he waited a moment for hands to meet his waist and shoulder respectively but nothing came. He made a soft noise and switched position before he began his foot work once more. It was fine, he’ll lead, even if he was always better at remembering the grounded steps.
He supposed he could find solace in the cold night. Nearly enough to frost the tips of his wings. Venting once more he let the cold embrace him, Those soft winds pushing against his transformation seams as he spun, bent, and dipped his invisible partner. Those soft vents and offlined optics almost let him see him. Those broad white shoulders that so perfectly framed his tucked wings… another sound was made, much like a scoff before he twirled his invisible partner letting their grasp slip away.
He spun himself counterclockwise and slowly activated his thrusters into the spin generating some velocity and thrust before gently lifting himself into the sky. This was where things got tricky going solo. He simply kept going, his spinning coming to a stop as he reached back out, his partner taking hold and with a particularly hot blast from his thrusters and a tilt to his aileron he was sent careening into open air, collapsing into himself and pulling himself into his alt mode.
He quickly flew backward and upside down in a collision course with his partner before pulling up at the last possible second and just barely feeling what warmth would have been there had he had his partner. All he could think was of him on nights like this. How could this world be so cruel as to rip away the one he had loved most, the one he had worked so hard to keep, the one who made him want to be better. But now ‘better’ seemed so far away and he was so tired. So tired of missing him, so tired of doing this just about every solar cycle.
He felt the weight of the atmosphere crash against him as he flew higher and higher into that thin ozone. The scent nearly crushing him as he glided along the dense clouds, he transformed once more and carried on his dance, this was his way of screaming he supposed. Gliding above a world so cruel to him. Thrusters cutting through clouds the way a skate would cut through thick ice. His movements were graceful and he glided and grazed the surface of the hidden planet.
He took his partner once more and dragged them in close before once more pulling away, offlining his optics, and backflipping out of the clouds. He did not fly this time, he simply fell. This part was always the act of trust, knowing your partner would catch you if you fell, if your wings weren’t there, thrusters gone. He fell like a feather, directionless just how he felt without.. He vented as he continued to fall up until he onlined his optics once more and just barely transformed before the crash. But he didn’t crash, his own self preservation was to thank for that.
He sighed as he flew on the back of his alt mode, cold oceanic spray lapping at his cockpit and wings. He shivered before pulling up once more and coming back into formation. The dance wasn’t done. Not yet. He pulled himself once more to the clouds, transformed, and promptly activated his thrusters, he began to lower himself into the clouds, his movements slow and steady. He began to once more dance his peculiar waltz. The steps he took made it look as through he was descending an invisible staircase with a partner in hand. One step forward two and a half back. Then two steps forward and one back.
He seemed to dance around the other in counted steps, dipped in front of the other seeming to take their hand and kiss the back of it before standing once more and twirling the second and dipping them down in a show stopping finale. He could see him, feel him, that white finish with those red accents, the heavy glow of energon rushing to his cheeks. That goofy aft smile that he gave whenever he was flustered. He couldn’t help but smile, couldn’t help but feel younger. Like he was back at the academy, when they had done this the first time and his partner didn’t know the steps to this particular dance.
He stopped and looked up at the empty air almost breathless as though he might actually see the one he so desperately wanted to dance with. He had no such luck, just the same as every other time he plays this silly game.
He blinked for a moment as he stood there in open air and ozone burning beneath him, letting out a vent too big for his frame and simply doing a flip directly into a swan dive allowing himself to fall for what felt like cycles but was truly only nanoclicks. He fully intended it to end this way, this whole dance that was, to end in the icy embrace of the ocean, to let himself drift thoughtlessly as the salt water threatened to rust him, numb him, make all those nasty little thoughts rush away in the initial plunge of the water.
Those cracks in his facade seemed only to get wider with every dance under the hidden moon. A dance for a love he once held so close to his spark, someone who he trusted to know him, to understand him, and that someone had been gone for these millions of years, his spark ached. And it ached ever more knowing that the only version of him he’d ever truly know was forever stuck in his processor like a daydream of prewar glory. But in truth he was stuck somewhere on this Primus forsaken planet. He wanted to tear his spark out and toss it to the open sea knowing that he’d likely never see him again.
He hated this stupid mud ball. For all that it had taken from him. His pride, his dignity, his skyfire.
He onlined his optics once more and activated his thrusters and boiled the water that had nearly hit his pedes. He stared out at the starless ocean, the black void more unforgiving than space itself. A sea of salt on a planet of dirt and unforgiving storms. The glare he cast upon the black water should have been enough to evaporate the entirety of the planet's ocean and yet it remained as choppy and heavy as when he first began his dance.
It was time to head back.
He never knew for sure why he even did this. It wasn’t like he was ever coming back and no silly dance would ever do the impossible. After all he wasn’t miraculously going to appear and complete a dance that forever remained unfinished.