Work Text:
It was the end to another very long, very irritating day and Starscream was resting in his favorite recliner reading some reports.
As his seat warmed him up, he could feel the days stress melting off him in waves. The report in front of him was getting rather tedious to read, with the words starting to melt into each other and slide around before him.
Feeling his seat shift he grumbled slightly and readjusted his position.
It was Predaking. Predaking was his favorite thing to sit on.
Not that the king of the predacons minded terribly. He was quite amused on how Starscream would seek him out at the end of every day to take his place. Fliers seemed to be perpetually cold and the commander would dish out more excuses to use the predacon as his personal warming seat.
Occasionally he would tease the struts around the commander’s ankles and his peculiar peds, tweaking at the pointed edges and tickling the plates. Starscream would kick at the offending hand until it stopped before resettling himself into his seat of honor.
Eventually the flier’s wings would twitch slightly as the commander fell into stasis, grumbling about how poorly he would sleep reclining, which was entirely untrue. If Starscream got a full stasis cycle of rest, he would awake slowly with a dopy grin on his face, well rested, until he saw Predaking grinning at him, in which his shrill and “winning” personality would take over rather loudly.
All in all, Predaking deeply enjoyed the agreement. Just another agreement in a long line of them. Predaking loved spending time with his mate. And Starscream was very much his mate. This was a point he had been muddled with for a while until he had finally recognized Stascreams deep hurt when he turned down the commander for their usual “liaisons” or “agreements”.
The commander loved being fed, adored, warmed and generally a pampered center of attention, all of which were incredibly rare things when one is the commander of the decepticon army. As a commander he was shrewd and resourceful albeit not personably very popular. And Megatron ensured Starscream remained unpopular even within his own ranks.
So to have an individual whom was so willing to keep him as the center of their attention, made Starscream want to keep him very close. Very close indeed. And yet the commander never openly admitted any of this. Emotionally open decepticons were not commanders. But Predaking had learned quickly how to understand the commander from his wings. A subtle twitch here, and a slight lowering there and Predaking knew immediately how Starscream was feeling.
So when he saw those wings hitch up slightly whenever he entered a room, he knew how Starscream felt about him. Or how they slightly relaxed when it was just the two of them, or how they lowered themselves entirely relaxed like when Starscream was comfortably reclined against his body.
He laid one hand on Starscreams midriff, protectively, possessively wanting to keep him there, relaxed, for as long as possible.
A smaller, slighter hand alighted on top of his, curling gently in stasis.