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When Sideswipe entered his quarters he froze mid step. There wasn’t much that could make Sideswipe freeze in his tracks. A gun to his head, a knife at his throat: no problem. But Sunstreaker sitting next to his bedside table with something organic, well now, that was dangerous.
He slammed his palmed on the door panel and locked it.
“What,” Sideswipe said, adding more than an ounce of caution in his tone, “is that?”
“A plant.”
The answer: immediate. Short, but not sweet.
Sunstreaker didn’t look up as he spoke. He continued his laser-focused task of running a dry paintbrush over the broad dark green leaves of said insidious plant.
His favourite paintbrush.
Sideswipe move the rest of the way into their room, carefully, as if his twin was defusing a bomb. As he drew closer, Sideswipe narrowed his optics, glaring down at the intruder in their midst.
“I know it’s a plant,” Sideswipe crouched and poked at it. “But what is it doing in our quarters?”
His knuckles were rapped with the end of the paintbrush. “Back off. It’s Hound’s.”
Oh.
Oh, slag.
“… and… you are painting it with invisible paint?” Sideswipe asked, hoping that was the case.
It wasn’t often Sunny did pranks. But when he did they were either spectacular… or kinda lame. Like the time he changed the colour of Medbay by a shade of orange; the shade of Track’s face. Sunny had snickered about it over their bond privately for a week, then mopped for another once he realized no one even noticed.
“No, you idiot, I’m not painting it, I’m dusting its leaves so it can do its plant thing.”
“… plant thing?” Okay, now Sideswipe was really confused.
“Eat light or whatever the equivalent of organic photovoltaics is,” Sunstreaker muttered. “Hound left on an extended mission and I offered to take care of it.”
“You what?” Sideswipe did a double take between the plant and his twin. “You? Offered? Why? What’s the catch?”
Sunstreaker didn’t respond. He just sat there like a lump and used one of his very favourite paintbrushes to push the spongy moss around its base so it sat perfectly level in the pot.
The longer Sideswipe watched him, the tighter an icy fist gripped Sideswipe’s spark.
His twin was fussing.
“No.” Sideswipe wedged his way between Sunstreaker and the table holding the sinister foliage. “Oh no no no, Sunny you have to take it back. This is not how you get Hound’s attention.”
“I panicked, okay?” Sunstreaker pushed none-to-gently on Sideswipe’s leg to move him out of the way. “Hound asked if someone could watch his orchid and you said to look for opportunities to do things for him to show him I’m... and… how hard can taking care of a plant be? It just eats light.“
Sideswipe looked around their windowless room and rubbed down the back of his neck. He suppressed a groan.
Hound’s plant was going to die, and Sunstreaker would never stop silently pinning for him while pretending Hound just annoyed him.
Primus, why couldn’t Sunny just get drunk and go berth hopping like a normal mech.
No, instead he had to offer to watch a stupid plant (they were going to inevitably kill), and somehow Sideswipe’s pining twin thought that would show he… what?
Sideswipe glared at his twin, poking him along their bond.
“What’s your long game here?” he asked.
“What do you mean my long game?”
“Your long game. Your strategy. Your plan for when Hound gets back? Stomp up to him and shove his plant back and say: ‘here’s your stupid dead plant?’”
Sunstreaker’s glowering silence was all the answer Sideswipe needed to confirm his twin hadn’t thought that far ahead. In fact, Sunstreaker avoided answering at all by nudging a small fan closer to the plant’s slotted pot.
“What’s that for?”
“Hound said its roots need airflow so the substrate doesn’t mold.”
“Airflow... “ Sideswipe hummed to himself then snapped his fingers. “We’ll just tell him it escaped.”
Sunstreaker looked dubiously at the very static plant sitting on his bedside table.
“It escaped,” he said without inflection. “It’s not capable of locomotion.”
“Minor detail.” Sideswipe crouched so he was optic level with the plant, and tapped his chin-guard. “We automate the pot. Modify my roomba, Xerxes — remember him? — add on some solar panels and program it to find windows in the base. When the plant dies — because let’s face it we are great at killing everything — we just tell him it escaped. Blame it on me. I left the door open and poof,” Sideswipe motioned a puff of smoke with his hand. “Plant on the run. We tried to catch it, Hound, but we couldn’t keep it from the freedom it craved.”
“That seems —“
“Genius?”
“Excessive.” Sunstreaker went back to moving his paintbrush lightly across its leaves. “Here’s an idea, genius: why don’t I just keep it alive?”
Sideswipe’s shoulders dropped and his smile fell from his face. Reaching out, he placed a hand on his twin’s shoulder.
“Sunny, you forget to fuel if you don’t set a timer. Your timers have timers.”
Beneath his hand, Sideswipe could feel Sunstreaker’s plating sag. He’d already thought of that. Of course he had already thought of that.
Sideswipe failed to keep his rising irritation from their bond.
“How many extra alerts are you setting right now for this stupid favour?”
Hound didn’t even know. He probably wouldn’t even notice how hard Sunny tried. All he’d see was that Sunny killed it.
“It only needs to be watered once a week, have air flow over its roots, 40% humidity, and light - but not direct light,” Sunstreaker tried to reposition his table so it was out of the direct line of sight of their overhead lights. “... it didn’t sound hard.”
“How long is he gone?”
“Three months.”
“Three months?”
“I didn’t ask for your help, Sideswipe,” Sunstreaker knocked Sideswipe’s hand off his shoulder, then scowled at the small scratch Sideswipe’s fingers had left on him. He stood, grabbed his detailing kit and started stomping toward the door. “Don’t even think about touching that plant!”
He made it as far as the threshold before he pivoted around and stomped back, swept up the plant in his arm and held it protectively from Sideswipe’s sight.
“I’m taking it to the washracks for some humidity.”
Then, Sunstreaker stomped away, taking the plant with him.
“Fine!” Sideswipe shouted. “Don’t come complaining to me when it starts to wither and die. Remember! I offered to set you and it free from this!”
But Sunstreaker was gone.
And Sideswipe was left alone.
“It’s not like I wanted to touch the stupid plant, anyway.” Sideswipe muttered, kicking a leaving of organic substrate on the floor toward his Roomba. “Stupid Hound. Him and his stupid caring about living things is going to break Sunny’s spark.”
Sideswipe tried to forget about Hound’s sinister task he had entrusted to Sunny in the form of broad-leafy carbon dioxide absorbing, washrack loving lump of Earth fauna —
But Sunny took that stupid plant with him everywhere.
It sat next to him during monitor duty, it road shotgun: belted in with his vents pointed at its roots for airflow as he did patrol, or as Sunny called it now “taking the plant out to eat sunlight.” It went with him to the shower, and he fussed with its orientation on his nightstand, making sure the fan was never drying it out for too long.
He had even done brig time with it for punching Huffer for looking at it weird.
Hound’s stupid plant was never out of Sunny’s sight.
But it was unsurprising that the instant something went wrong with it, Sunstreaker reflex was to blame the innocent.
“Sideswipe!”
The instant Sideswipe heard that tone with the accompanying fury along their bond, he paused for long enough to see if it was a I Got A Scratch I Can’t Reach kind of use of his name, or a You Used My Wax Unevenly Run For Your Life, kind of use of his name.
It was neither.
Sideswipe finished taping the knife to the top of his Roomba then stood to meet the enraged optics of his twin looming behind him. “What?”
The sinister foliage was thrust in front of Sideswipe, so close his optics couldn’t focus on it properly. “What the frag did you do to Hound’s plant?”
“Primus not this. Nothing, Sunny. I haven’t touched the stupid plant.”
“Then what’s this thing?” Sunstreaker pointed his large digit between the leaves.
“What thing?”
“Looks like one of Rampage’s claws got run over by Astrotrain”
Sideswipe took a step back so he could focus on what had Sunny’s wires in a knot. There was a little… thingie sticking up. “Huh. Yea it does kinda look like one of Rampage's claws got run over by Astrotrain.”
“Well?”
“Well what?”
“What do I do now? I mutated Hound’s plant or something — I knew I should have made you sleep in the hallway after you walked by Wheeljack’s lab during that quantum surge.”
“How the frag did this become my fault?”
“Just figure out what’s wrong with it? Ratchet said he’s not a plant doctor.”
“You brought it to Ratchet?” Frag Sunny really was worried. “Okay, uh, lemme check the datanet,” Sideswipe walked over to his desk and flipped his monitor down. “What kind of organic is it?”
“Orchid.” Sunstreaker snapped out like Sideswipe should have remembered that.
Sideswipe did a quick search, grumbling that Sunny could have just done this himself but after the first result Sideswipe’s spark stalled. He checked twenty different pages just to be certain before he turned around and stared at that clever little fragger of a plant in a new light.
“Sunny,” Sideswipe said, pointing at the little crab-like claw sticking up from between two leaves. “That’s a spike.”
Sunstreaker scoffed. “It is not. Search again.”
“It is! It’s a spike. The plant’s sex organs,” he hit his twin on the shoulder. “Sunny, Hound’s plant is happy to see you!”
“What?” Sunstreaker held the plant out as far as he could from his frame, his optics stretched wide and their bond vibrating in a panic. “What do I do now?”
“Give it a little stroke? Keep it happy,” Sideswipe’s hand was knocked away before he could give a little tug on the plant.
“Hands off, you’ll be too rough.”
“Well, I don’t see you trying to help the little guy out?” Sideswipe leaned in close to the plant then squeaked out in a high-pitched voice: “Hey, Sunny, put some water in my soil, oooh yes, I’m so DIRTY!"
“Shut up!” Sunstreaker turned and placed the plant down on his bed-side table and backed away from the plant for the first time in just over month.
“Sunny!” Sideswipe scolded, scooting closer to the plant now. “Don’t be mean. Shhhh, he doesn’t mean it. He’d never leaf you.”
“Sideswipe!” Sunstreaker snapped. “What if it lays spores in your face.”
“This little guy? Naw. Sunny I think he just really likes you?”
“He.” Sunstreaker said without inflection.
“Yea.”
“What happened to ‘that stupid fragging plant?”
“Well, that was before I knew he could get all hot and bothered for you.” Sideswipe turned his head to look at his twin and grinned. “Oh I bet it was the shower. All those weeks watching you lather, is that what did it?” Sideswipe looked back at the plant, thoroughly enthralled now. “Is that how you like it? Nice and steamy?”
“Sideswipe stop, this is serious, what do I do?”
“Take it nice and slow. See where this goes between you.”
“I’m not trying to date the fragging plant, I’m trying to date Hound!”
Sunstreaker went rigid as soon as the words were out of his vocalizer. Sideswipe stood and shook his head at his hopeless twin. There it was, frag but it had only taken vorns for Sunstreaker to finally admit it.
“Sunny, you help that spike grow, and when Hound comes back in two months you’re going to be able to hand his plant back to him with fully blossomed sex-organ on display. Now, if that’s not an opening to that mech’s sappy, soft spark, it’s definitely going to help crack open his pelvic plating. At the very least, you can work in a little topic appropriate dirty talk.”
“I suck at talking. Dirty talk is even worse. It’s so… stale.”
Frag, Sunny had it bad if he admitted he sucked at doing anything. But this was Sideswipe’s chance to help, and he’d be an awful wingman of a brother if he let this opportunity slide.
Sideswipe picked up the plant with a flourish and presented it to Sunstreaker, its little claw-like spike on display.
“Well?”
Sunstreaker crossed his arms. “Well, what?”
“You’ve got two months to practice. If you suck at it, the spike will shrivel up and die, the internet said so. But if you’re good at it, you’re going encourage it to grow. You get to practice your dirty talk and win Hound over with a plump and fully on display plant-sex organ.”
“I need to dirty talk to it?” Sunstreaker said now like he was staring at the barrel of a gun. “To Hound’s plant?”
“Yup,” Sideswipe said resigned as he shook his head. “I know I know, matters of the spark are never easy and require great sacrifice. But! Who on this base is dirtier than Hound? Literally no one, that’s who. The material writes itself, and you can easily translate your new skills over.”
Sunstreaker, bless his weird spark, looked like he was considering it.
But Sideswipe felt like maybe he had pushed a little too far when Sunstreaker simply snatched the plant back from Sideswipe’s hands and stormed off, out of their room.
Sideswipe looked down hopelessly at his Evil Roomba Minion that was currently trying to usurp him and stab him in the ped. “He’s hopeless Xerxes. I’ve tried and I’ve tried. Turns out you can lead a mech to a plant’s spike, but you can’t get him to dirty talk to it.”
Another three weeks passed and Sideswipe hadn’t though much more of his attempt at relationship advice or Hound’s plant. Sideswipe, admittedly was kind of busy serving brig time after Xerxes escaped into the vents and took it upon himself to attempt to assassinate Prowl. Clever little fragger played mute and blamed it all on Sideswipe with his silence.
Apparently, Sideswipe’s “reason” of Xerxes gaining sentience from his proximity to Wheeljack’s quantum surge in his lab was deemed an “excuse.” But, Sideswipe figured he just had to spend more time teaching Xerxes the ins and outs of the Autobot command structure, and why killing Prowl didn’t automatically make Xerxes their new commander.
In essence, Sideswipe had had his own problems.
So, the day back in the room with his twin, he froze in the early morning hours when he heard a little whisper.
“Sprits me, yea, yea like that.”
It took all of Sideswipe’s scant willpower to not let on along their bond that he was awake.
“Let those little droplets roll down the curves of my dark green leaves. Oh, you like that?”
Sideswipe resulted to having to bite his knuckle to stay quiet.
“Oh, you are making me moist!”
Admittedly, that line was kind of good, ‘moist’ had a dirty feel to it and Sideswipe was planning on using that one next time he shacked up with Smokescreen.
“Leaf you wanting more, huh?”
Oh, Primus, Sideswipe was certain Hound was freaky enough to love a little mix of organic into his foreplay. Sideswipe wanted to cheer Sunny on at the same time Sideswipe wanted to burst out laughing. This was, the best. That stupid little plant might have been the best thing to ever happen in Sideswipe's life.
As Sunstreaker got ready for his early morning shift he’d periodically check in, and add some words of encouragement to Hound’s plant.
“Ooooooo, the airflow feels soooo goooood on my exposed roots.”
The little fan was clearly being repositioned. Sunstreaker kept it up for twenty minutes before he picked up the plant and whispered something Sideswipe was ashamed it had taken him this long to realize about Sunstreaker —
“Oh yea, take me outside. Set me where everyone can see.”
By Primus, of course Sunstreaker would want to be watched.
As soon as the door closed behind his twin, Sideswipe grabbed his pillow and shoved it on his face, kicking his legs as he let out a high mixture of a scream and a laugh. Ah, new love. It was beautiful.
At the same time, it was a shame though. If after all this, Hound rejected Sunny, Sideswipe was going to have to kill Hound on principle. Because there was no way Sunstreaker would ever go out on a limb like this for anyone ever again.
Hound was covered in caked mud and dust from the road. He was tired. More than tired — exhausted. And he wanted nothing more than to just check in with Jazz and disappear into his quarters and recharge for an entire day before he hauled his aft to the washracks for what was probably going to be an ordeal to get the mud out from his grill and —
“Bet you’re ready to get all hot and steamy.”
Hound reset his audials just to be sure he hadn’t been on his own so long that he’d started to hallucinate a sultry voice greeting him.
“You won’t believe what I can do with a paintbrush.”
Hound froze in his tracks as Sunstreaker walked around a corner, holding Hound’s orchid. Like he had slammed into a wall Sunstreaker stopped, his optics wide as he held Hound’s orchid — a series of dark purple blooms hanging from a stem and wobbling from Sunstreaker’s abrupt halt in front of him.
Silence stretched between them, Hound stunned and scanning the surrounding area for Sideswipe, expecting this to be a prank. But Sunstreaker didn’t move, or laugh, he stood rooted in place, his wide optics shifting between Hound and his plant.
Hound reset his vocalizer. “I’d love a second set of hands in the washracks.”
Sunstreaker still didn’t move and Hound shuffled under the intense scrutiny of the Autobot’s most volatile mech.
“I’m afraid I can only imagine what you can do with a paintbrush,” Hound added as he looked over Sunstreaker’s impeccable finish. “I honestly don’t know how you do it, I can barely apply wax evenly.”
Sunstreaker narrowed his optics at him, weary as if he were certain Hound was the one setting a trap. He slowly circled around Hound as if mapping every ding and dent before he returned to his position in front and held Hound’s plant between them.
“Let me do it right,” Sunstreaker said as he traced his finger down the flower spike of Hound’s plant, continuing onto the centre of a broad leaf. “And water will bead right off your filthy surface, dripping down like the contours of a leaf.”
Hound worked his vocalizer.
Sunstreaker’s focus on him was intense, and Hound wasn’t certain how to respond. He hesitated a little too long under Sunstreaker’s scrutiny though.
Because Sunstreaker shoved his plant at him.
“I didn’t kill it.”
It was then Hound’s tired cortex caught up with him as he blinked at the blooms wobbling under his nose.
"Wow, uh, it wasn't even suppose to bloom for another few months yet."
“Really?”
Hound nodded and as he reached out and steadied the flower stem between his fingers, he looked down its length and spied a few roots sticking out of the holes of the pot.
“Oh, look at that, a very vigorous root growth. What’s your secret?”
At first Sunstreaker just stood there staring. When he crossed his arms, Hound thought for certain he had just imagined any flirtation coming from the stunningly deadly, anti-social mech.
But after a few moments Sunstreaker leaned down, and Hound’s optics felt as if they might fall out of his head as the golden mech whispered his clear intentions in Hound’s audial.
“I like making you moist.”