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In the vast expanse of space, time did not move. Yet, Blurr could not help but feel like the few sparse solar cycles they had technically spent since their disappearance from the Cybertronian map had been eons longer, his nerves set on edge by the constant fear of being discovered. Now, though, they had drifted beyond the Commonwealth’s boarders, and there was likely little chance they would be caught this cycle or the next. Shockwave assured him of such.
The glow of a purple nebula filtered through the windows and into their shared room. It was beautiful, but the light was cold. Everything was cold, really. Blurr stood and stretched, hoping the movement would alleviate some of the chill. The craft was Decepticon in origin and because of this the internal temperature regulator was always set far below what he was comfortable with. The passage of so many large, hot frames required a big chill normally, though now, apart from Shockwave, there were few Decepticons actually present. Not many had escaped the final culling after Megatron’s capture.
But they had. Squinting into the light, Blurr looked out into the void of space. For the first time since he had been an undergraduate he did not recognize the stars. It was oddly refreshing, a sign of how far they had come, and a small smile graced his lips. Turning back to the interior of their shared quarters, he searched for Shockwave. He had been sent here to rest, but hadn’t been able to. Everything still felt too unsettled, too shaky. He was used to being alone when he was focused, had a mission. Things were set in specific parameters, then; perform the mission, return, report. Even though there were countless variables at work, he could always count on there being somewhere to return to when he was done, and because of that he was never truly lonely.
He had recently learned a truer meaning of the word than any he had known. Though he and Shockwave hardly separated outside their quarters, the work was hard and the air tense. The other Decepticons had eyed him with distrust and an almost exhausted hatred, as if merely expending the energy to care was enough to drain them. It was not too far from the truth – energon had not been easy to come by, and the first few set of cycles had starved them all. Instead of dwelling, he had focused harder, kept himself working faster on helping to ration their supplies, categorize every inch of the ship they had stolen from the Guard’s holding dock, ensure that there were no aberrations among the shoddy crew of survivors.
Now, the intensity dribbled away to pool at his feet and he was left with a feeling of immense, trembling relief, and he did not want to be alone.
The space they inhabited on the ship was a captain’s suite, a several roomed chunk of the habitation hall. It was not exactly glamourous, because this was hardly more than a cargo transport, but it was weaponized and the easiest for them to take and that was all they could afford to be choosey about. Shockwave, always an advocate for simplicity in living, had immediately taken control and there had been no argument about it, despite his little carry on. It was a massive step in the right direction, as far as Blurr was concerned, and he was glad for the personal space and privacy it provided, but now it seemed that his mate would not be taking advantage of it any time soon.
The halls were as dimly lit and empty as always, all power on reserve sparing the meager life support necessary and the dull thrum of the forward thrusters. Skittering across the unwashed and uneven tiling, he sent an inquisitive ping through their connection, lips drawing up in frustration when he received only a soft buzz of static in response. Shockwave had never been particularly talkative when it came to the intimacies between them, but this was pushing it. At least the answer was enough to give him a vague map of directions to his location, so without further ado Blurr took off to the upper decks, avoiding any and all contact with the other crewmates that he could.
Shockwave was, as per usual, busy. When Blurr entered the room that had once been a meeting hall but had been largely converted to storage, he was not at all surprised to find Shockwave among the boxes and bags hunched over the long table and mulling over some documents. There were two other Cons in the room as well, though they seemed less involved themselves, glancing boredly at him as he crossed the deck. Shockwave did not look up.
“If you can find any extra welding tools, bring them to me. If we are to increase fuel efficiency I am going to need everything at my disposal. That also stands for scrap metal, including furniture that is not currently being used. We can afford luxuries when we are free.”
They nodded slowly, only just listening, and he dismissed them with a wave of his claw. Blurr wove around their legs and pressed against the side of Shockwave’s chair, fingers creeping up to rub at the treading on his thigh soothingly.
“I thought you would be resting, my dear,” Shockwave murmured, still not looking away from his plans. Blurr hummed a little, the motion vibrating in his entire throat, and he crawled up into Shockwave’s lap, pushing his face against his broad chest in a way he knew was enticing.
“I can’t recharge Shockwave, and I’m not just saying that, I really mean it, because I’m so lonely and that berth is so large and we haven’t been close in so long.”
He felt silly saying it, as dramatic as it was, but he was tired and desperate and he meant every word. Plus there was the cold, seemingly deepening into his frame with every nano-klik. Shockwave was so warm, though, and he curled into his frame. Relenting, Shockwave sighed, and Blurr grinned quietly into his insignia, nuzzling against it as he heard the telling click of his data pad shutting down.
“I suppose,” Shockwave intoned, “I could rest.”
He hadn’t recharged since they had left. Blurr could feel his need to rest, but, as with all the things that filtered through their bond, Shockwave’s need for it was strange and distorted. He knew that Shockwave did not feel things within the normal capacity, but since their still recent bonding he had become fully aware of it in ways that he still lacked the understanding to process. Still, he found himself absorbed by the odd blend of emotion and lack thereof, and as he stood to wrap his arms around Shockwave’s throat their sparks pounded in unison.
Shockwave wrapped his arms under Blurr’s back and aft and stood, simply carrying him out of the room and across the ship. His footsteps reverberated loudly through Blurr’s stomach and he pulled himself tighter to Shockwave’s frame, enjoying the physical connection.
“Things are going well,” he babbled softly, “aren’t they? We’re so far out now, they wouldn’t possibly think to follow us here, I don’t even know where we are anymore, they shouldn’t think to come this way, should they? We can rest. We got away. We’re out. Aren’t we?”
He was only half meaning it, slightly affirming his own beliefs while hoping to quell Shockwave’s need to constantly be on his feet. Even with his own peculiarities, Blurr recognized the importance of rest when he could get it. Surely Shockwave did too, even if he was always going to be a little monomaniacal.
“Nothing is absolute, but it is fair to say we are currently outside the likely realm of their search. They do not technically hold jurisdiction here, though that will likely not stem their efforts.”
Blurr hummed and plucked at the seams of his chest, dipping into his vents with a tired playfulness.
“Good, good, good.”
When they arrived at their quarters Shockwave moved directly to the berth, still clutching Blurr, and laid them both down with surprising efficiency. He had not recharged on his back much, if ever, before Blurr, but he recognized the Autobot’s instinctive desire for company and made do. It was not exactly uncomfortable, per say, but it did make his defensive protocols slightly more active to expose his entire frame so easily while in a state of unawareness. Blurr flopped about a few kliks, finally sidling up until his back was flush against Shockwave’s side.
Shockwave immediately shut himself down, being capable of doing such things, but it had not been more than a cycle when he found himself slowly booting up again, registering, nearby, some sort of disturbance. It was nothing large, and Blurr tended to roll in his sleep, but it was persistent and something uneasy was leaking through their bond. With the silence naturally built into his spark, Shockwave turned and looked down at his companion.
Blurr was curled in on himself significantly more so than he had been earlier, his fists pressed against his own chest as if defending against some unseen assault. He was clearly still awake, bio lighting fluxuating in brightness as he squirmed in discomfort, knees jarring against his elbows. He was cold.
“My dear?” Shockwave cooed, and Blurr jolted, surprised.
“Sh-Shockwave.”
His vocalizer glitched a bit, rough with static, and Shockwave pried deeper between them even as Blurr’s spark tried to resist, tasting the way his thin plating did nothing to keep the creeping cold of space from his systems, tender with exhaustion.
“Oh, love,” he said, and turned on his side, a claw pushing down to cage Blurr to his breast, helm lowering and nuzzling against his crest. Blurr pressed into him instantly, but he didn’t meet his gaze.
“You must tell me when you are suffering. I do not always know what I am looking for.”
He curled a claw around Blurr’s waist, covering him with his weight. Oddly enough his request was met with silence, although the bond loosened somewhat. Sending out a warm pulse of affection, both in his EM field and through their connection, Shockwave settled back down. His shoulders width made the positon awkward for him, so he turned onto his back again, dragging Blurr up with him.
“I just….” Blurr shifted into his throat, “I don’t want to bother you with it.”
Shockwave hummed.
“Fool.”
They slept.
Several times in the cycle Shockwave again was drawn back to reality, only to recognize whatever sound or vibration his sensors had picked up on to be a product of the crew still working on fixing up the ship. While his movements did not wake Blurr, the fluxuations of their sparks would dance together and the small body in his arms would shift, sometimes moaning quietly or muttering a soft, disjointed phrase from a dream. He stroked him gently and then slowly slipped away.
Then, he awoke to find Blurr has scooted down his torso, hips rocking back and forth quickly against Shockwave’s pelvic span. His helm was resting on its side and he panted loudly, but his optics were offline and at first he didn’t see Shockwave had noticed him. It wasn’t until a single claw reach down and unceremoniously dragged a path between his legs that he drew in a shaking breath and smiled across his banded stomach.
“I’m dirty and I want to take a bath.”
Shockwave’s optic flickered.
“That is not the line of action I expected you to suggest.”
Blurr purred out a laugh and kissed where he could reach several times. He scrambled off the moment Shockwave began to move, awake and alive, zipping back and forth between the door to the rest of their quarters and the berth. Shockwave was slow in getting up, both because he himself was still rather tired now that he had gotten a taste of recharge and because it was rather amusing to watch as Blurr’s frustration built, field flaring around him with intentional flutters of need. Eventually tired of waiting, he rushed from the room, and moments later Shockwave could hear the rush of the shower starting.
He was rushed as soon as he entered the room.
“Shockwave, Shockwave, Shockwave,” Blurr was muttering, rubbing against him. He tugged at Shockwave’s claws and knees and they moved to stand under the stream of solvents while Blurr wound around him, engine humming vibrations through them both. Blurr’s panel snicked open and he sighed happily, hips swaying in the mounting steam.
“One day we should get a bath, Shockwave, because I’ve never gotten to use one but they look so nice and I think when things get really calmed down and we’re living somewhere that isn’t a tiny floating rust bucket we should have one. For us both.”
“If that is what you want,” said Shockwave simply. He reached down and held Blurr still against his leg, claws returning to the fork of his legs to stroke his now bared valve.
Normally interface with Blurr was a wild mess of claws and fingers grasping and shaking and legs flying everywhere, his energies unable to be appeased until Shockwave had pinned him down and truly rammed the life out of him, but now, in the slow haze of recharge and alertness, they both merely swayed together, Blurr a little more franticly than most but still a sleepy shadow of his normal exuberance. He wrapped his arms around Shockwave’s thigh, lazily rubbing against the heating panel where his spike lay as he pushed his own hips back into Shockwave’s touch. A few kisses here and there and he was beginning to buck, pushing himself up on his tiptoes to angle his valve better.
“Please please put them inside please-!”
Blurr cut off with a squeal as Shockwave did just that, sliding a single claw easily as deep as it would go and thrusting a few times, enjoying the way that his valve lining clung and rippled. He pulled it all the way out, eliciting a thin whine, watching as the copious strands of lubricant connecting them broke under the shower’s will.
“You are not getting very clean this way, darling.”
“Idon’tcare,” Blurr spluttered, a full body shudder wracking him from toe to head as the claw returned to work at his nub, “we can get cleanlaterlaterahhHH!”
He came, jolting so hard he smacked the front of his hips into Shockwave’s leg, clinging and wriggling as lubricant spattered across the floor to swirl in pearly patterns down the drain. As Blurr recovered, Shockwave knelt, then sat, pulling him into his lap. They sat in silence for a moment, letting the solvents rains down and wash through the seams of their shoulders, and then, as he felt Blurr’s ventilations begin to pick up again, Shockwave released his spike.
It was not wholly pressurized and Blurr, who was perched just above the base, wrapped his hands and thighs around it and rubbed until it was, running his fingers in a slow dance through the thick ribbing along the shaft. He bounced his hips a bit, rubbing his valve lips along the top with renewed interest, but the motions were sloppy and uncoordinated.
“Help me up,” he mumbled, gasping shakily as his node caught along an edge. Nodding a bit, Shockwave hunched over him, wrapping a hand around each thigh and lifting Blurr to straddle his spike. Though they had not done the dance in a while, the moves were old and they came together easily, Blurr hissing in mild pain as his calipers were stretched beyond a quick fingering for the first time in lunar cycles. It was a good pain though, the pain of his equipment readjusting to the specifications they had spent so long modifying him for, and as soon as he was as low on the shaft as he was going to get (they weren’t pushing things) he began to urge Shockwave to move him, falling back against his belly and whining.
He reached back behind himself, trying to find some sort of purchase as they began to rock together, but the bouncing was too much and Shockwave too smooth, and he ended up with one hand on Shockwave’s ropey arm and the other stuffing fingers in his own mouth to suck on as he wailed, feet kicking into thin air. Shockwave grunted softly, stroking him through their bond with soft words and data packages of a deeper love than he had thought himself capable of, a love he could never quite vocalize but Blurr knew existed. It was enough to set them both close already but they did not rush it, Shockwave sliding Blurr up and down his spike like a toy with gentle consideration, appreciating, without the fear of being found, without the necessity of speed brought on by secretive liaisons, reveling in every touch and sound to their fullest.
Blurr managed to overload twice more before being kicked through another by Shockwave’s own cumming, holding still around him and squeezing as he threaded his fingers around a single claw. Shaking like loose paneling on an airship, he was laid out on the floor, the excessive amount of lubricant and transfluid drooling from his tender valve and making him sigh in little ripples of continued ecstasy. Shockwave watched him, overcome by rapid twisting inside himself, and his pupil focused to a slit when Blurr smiled dazedly up at him.
“you are so wonderful,” Blurr rasped, “so good to me, so good, I love you so much,” and Shockwave nodded down to press the flat panels of his face along Blurr’s cheek, holding them there in silence and Blurr continued to sing his praises. There was a small cloth on a rack and he lifted Blurr, limp as a drone, and began to scrub at him, the brilliant blue paint already peeking behind layers of the grime of work. He paused for a moment when Blurr reached for him, placing his delicate fingers on Shockwave’s great hand, and felt himself like he might tremble.
In the hall, someone dropped another large tool, and the crash echoed through the ship. Around them, space hummed, vacuous and free. Blurr’s spark swelled inside his breast and Shockwave realized, with a kind of wonder, that this was permanent. He scrubbed a little hard, each touch in reality a kiss.